


Warriors: Path of Stars [TNP Rewrite]

by TortieMom



Category: Warriors - Erin Hunter
Genre: Alternative Canon, Canon Rewrite, F/F, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-20
Updated: 2018-07-20
Packaged: 2019-06-13 16:05:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 28
Words: 47,395
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15368217
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TortieMom/pseuds/TortieMom
Summary: Over stone and water, toward the setting sun;No Clan will survive unless all are one.A WindClan apprentice with high expectations, a RiverClan dreamer with a paw in two worlds, a ThunderClan warrior struggling to get out of his father's shadow, and a defector to ShadowClan who shares his ambitious streak.When StarClan chose these four cats to guide the four warrior Clans to their new home, they knew their journey would not be an easy one. Overcoming distance and danger is one thing; learning to work together with rivals from other Clans is another. But these cats must find a way to set aside the differences and borders between them, or the Clans will be lost forever.





	1. Starlight Allegiances

** Allegiances **

**WindClan**

_Leader:_ Tallstar, aging black and white tom with a long tail

 _Deputy_ : Mudclaw, mottled dark brown tom; Apprentice: Crowpaw

 _Medicine Cat:_ Barkface, aging brown tom with a short tail; Apprentice: Kestrelpaw

_Warriors:_

Onewhisker, brown tabby tom

Webfoot, dark gray tabby tom

Tornear, pale tabby tom, missing one ear

Ashfoot, gray she-cat

Robinwing, light brown she-cat with blue eyes

Oatwhisker, cream tabby tom

Rushtail, light brown tom

Owlwhisker, light brown tabby tom

Weaselfur, ginger tom with white paws

Gorsetail, pale gray and white she-cat

Beechfur, light brown tom

Nightcloud, black she-cat

_Apprentices:_

Crowpaw, dark gray tom with blue eyes

Kestrelpaw, mottled brown and white tom

_Queens:_

Whitetail, small white she-cat, mother of Rushtail's kits, Harekit (brown and white tom) and Rabbitkit (white she-kit with brown tabby patches)

Morningflower, tortoiseshell she-cat, expecting Tornear's kits

_Elders:_

Wrenflight, very old brown she-cat

 

**ThunderClan**

_Leader:_ Firestar, ginger tom with green eyes

 _Deputy_ : Graystripe, long-furred gray tom

 _Medicine Cat_ : Cinderpelt, dark gray she-cat with twisted leg; Apprentice: Leafpaw

_Warriors:_

Mousefur, small brown she-cat; Apprentice: Shrewpaw

Dustpelt, dark brown tabby tom; Apprentice: Squirrelpaw

Sandstorm, pale ginger she-cat

Longtail, pale tabby tom

Cloudtail, long-furred white tom; Apprentice: Spiderpaw

Brackenfur, golden brown tabby tom; Apprentice: Whitepaw

Thornclaw, golden brown tabby tom; Apprentice: Birchpaw

Brightheart, white she-cat with ginger patches, missing an eye and ear

Brambleclaw, dark tabby tom with amber eyes

Ashfur, mottled gray tom with blue eyes

Rainwhisker, dark gray tom with blue eyes

Sootfur, light gray tom

Sorreltail, calico she-cat

_Apprentices:_

Spiderpaw, long-limbed black tom

Shrewpaw, dark brown tom

Squirrelpaw, ginger she-cat with fluffy tail

Leafpaw, light brown tabby she-cat

Birchpaw, light brown tabby tom

Whitepaw, white she-cat with one yellow eye and one blue eye, deaf in one ear

_Queens:_

Ferncloud, mottled gray she-cat with green eyes

_Elders:_

Goldenflower, pale ginger she-cat

Frostfur, white she-cat

 

**ShadowClan**

_Leader:_ Blackstar, white cat with six-toed black paws

 _Deputy:_ Russetfur, dark ginger she-cat

 _Medicine Cat:_ Littlecloud, small tabby tom

_Warriors:_

Oakfur, small brown tom

Cedarheart, dark gray tom; Apprentice: Applepaw

Rowanclaw, ginger tom

Tallpoppy, long-legged light brown she-cat

Nightwing, black she-cat; Apprentice: Toadpaw

Tawnypelt, pale tortoiseshell she-cat

Smokefoot, dark gray tom

Ivytail, tortoiseshell she-cat

Crowfrost, black-and-white tom

_Apprentices:_

Applepaw, mottled brown she-cat

Toadpaw, dark brown tom

_Queens:_

Snowbird, white she-cat, mother of Starlingkit (ginger tom) and Talonkit (pale ginger and white tom)

_Elders:_

Runningnose, small gray and white tom

Boulder, skinny gray tom

 

**RiverClan**

_Leader:_ Leopardstar, spotted golden tabby she-cat

 _Deputy:_ Mistyfoot, gray she-cat

 _Medicine Cat:_ Mudfur, aging long-furred brown tom; Apprentice: Mothwing

_Warriors:_

Shadepelt, dark gray she-cat

Blackclaw, smoky black tom; Apprentice: Volepaw

Rippletail, dark gray tabby tom

Swallowtail, long-furred dark brown tabby she-cat; Apprentice: Stonepaw

Reedwhisker, black tom; Apprentice: Splashpaw

Beechwhisker, light brown tom

Stormfur, dark gray tom

Feathertail, silver tabby she-cat

Hawkfrost, dark brown tabby tom with blue eyes

 _Apprentices_ :

Mothwing, golden tabby she-cat

Volepaw, small brown tabby tom

Stonepaw, gray tom

Splashpaw, gray tabby she-cat

 _Queens_ :

Mosspelt, pale tortoiseshell she-cat with blue eyes, expecting Reedwhisker's kits

Dawnflower, pale gray she-cat

 _Elders_ :

Loudbelly, long-furred dark brown tom

**Cats Outside the Clans**

Barley, black and white tom

Ravenpaw, black tom

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to my rewrite of The New Prophecy: Path of Stars!
> 
> I wanted to give each of the four Clans a full roster, something they didn't have until late into TPoT/OotS in canon. To that end, I had to pull a lot of cats who first appear in TPoT and OotS into the Allegiances here. Please do not think too much about reconciling these Allegiances with the canon; most of the minor characters are being written without regard to their canon counterparts.


	2. Starlight Prologue

_Prologue_

The final rays of the late-Greenleaf sun faded beyond the horizon. Shadows spread across the moor and pooled between trees until only the pale light of the stars remained. A few lithe shapes moved in the forest, their eyes glinting briefly as they looked up before hurrying back to their dens. The hot air was too still, and the total darkness of the moonless night would not yield good hunting.

Four cats stood in the center of a clearing between four ancient trees. Despite the thick shade, their pelts gleamed silver with starlight that sparked from their paws and tails when they moved.

A gray tom flicked an ear that was woven out of stardust at the end. “Are we sure there is no other way?”

“After all the Clans have fought for…” a thinner gray tom began, but could not finish his thought.

A dappled tom curled his bushy ginger tail over his forepaws. “If there were any other path, we would have found it by now. The time has come for the four great Clans to leave the forest and seek out a new home.”

The skinny gray tom repeated with a hiss, “After all the Clans have fought for! ShadowClan survived the rule of two tyrants, a plague, and the battle against the invaders who would have stolen our home! And now, you say we have to tell them to give up?” He slashed the ground with his claws, leaving faint traces of silver. “ShadowClan are true warriors! They will fight for every pawstep of their territory, no matter the danger!”

“Then they will not survive!” the ginger-tailed tom snapped, then ran a paw over his whiskers to calm himself. “I sympathize with you. We _all_ do. But there is no other way. This is not a threat the Clans can fight with teeth and claws, and all the courage of LionClan can’t save them from what’s coming.”

The black tom who had contented himself to watch the others rose onto three paws, his left forepaw held at an odd angle.

“You accuse us of telling the Clans to give up?” His mew was deceptively calm. “I seem to recall a time that WindClan was wrongfully chased out of their home. They faced innumerable challenges, impossible challenges, but they never gave up.”

The gray tom lowered his head and gave his chest a few self-conscious licks.

“The Clans will need more than the courage of LionClan to survive,” the black tom continued with a nod to their ginger-tailed companion. “They will need the cunning of ShadowClan, the determination of ThunderClan, the imagination of RiverClan, and the resourcefulness of WindClan. And, above all, they will need the wisdom of StarClan to guide them.”

A breeze rustled the cats’ fur but left the leaves overhead untouched.

Change was coming, and it smelled of stone, water, death, and—faintly—new growth, new life.

“Then it’s decided, and we have no time to waste,” the tom with the half-missing ear spoke solemnly. “We should select one cat from each Clan who exemplifies those qualities to lead the journey ahead to the Clans’ new home. They will meet here in one moon to begin their quest.”

The four cats bowed their heads to each other in solidarity and went their separate ways. The tom with the half-missing ear headed for the river; the thin gray tom padded toward the pine forest; the ginger-tailed tom turned back to the forest behind him; and the black tom made for the open moor.

Although they traveled to different Clans, each carried the same message:

_Over stone and water, toward the setting sun;_

_No Clan will survive unless all are one._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Main Changes:  
> \- The prophecy now puts more of a focus on unity among the Clans being needed in the coming future.  
> \- Emphasis placed on the exemplifying qualities of each Clan to give potential new readers to the series a general idea of what each Clan is like.  
> \- Cats who deliberate on the prophecy are now former deputies of the Clans that were not seen too much in the first arc, providing intrigue for both new and old readers without making new readers feel like they're missing important pieces of these characters (Stonefur, Cinderfur, Redtail, and Deadfoot).


	3. Starlight Chapter One

_Chapter One_

The moor flew by under Crowpaw’s outstretched legs as he dashed after the rabbits. There were four of them—white, gray, black, and brown—fleeing across the field toward the forest. Crowpaw ducked his head down and pushed his hind paws hard into the ground for an extra boost of speed, but the rabbits evaded his claws and kept running until he was at the very edge of the moor.

He skidded to a halt as the rabbits crossed WindClan’s border, disappearing into the bushes and brambles at the edge of the forest around Fourtrees.

Crowpaw angrily swiped a stalk of long grass and looked back up the slope toward WindClan’s camp while catching his breath. He would have earned his warrior name for sure if he brought back _four_ plump rabbits from one hunt, especially with how unusually lean Greenleaf had been for the wild cats of the moor.

A stiff breeze blew down the moor, pushing his whiskers back and making him squint.

 _Crowpaw_.

Ears pricked, the young tom looked back toward Fourtrees. He could have sworn he heard some cat’s voice beckoning him from beneath the shade of the trees, but he couldn’t see anyone. It must have been the wind, which ruffled his pelt as it pushed toward the forest.

The sun was suddenly hot on his back, and he stalked toward the shadows. Cat or no cat, getting out of the heat of sunhigh and resting under one of the elms seemed like a good idea. Fourtrees belonged to all the Clans—surely ThunderClan wouldn’t mind his stopping there for a moment before he returned home. Every cat knew ThunderClan was soft about borders, anyway.

Crowpaw padded across the cool ground, searching for a comfortable place to curl up at the edge of the woods, where he could still see the moor. He would never understand how the other Clans could live so closed in by the trees, unable to see more than a few foxlengths in front of them.

_Crowpaw._

The dark gray tom lifted his tail in alarm. He was _sure_ that wasn’t the wind in the branches overhead. With a final look at the moor, he plunged into the heart of FourTrees.

The cat who waited for him was not from ThunderClan.

Sunlight dappled the cat’s black pelt, but Crowpaw could still see the starlight glistening across it. The warrior looked at Crowpaw with a warmth that could not belong to a rival Clan.

At the sight of his twisted left paw, Crowpaw gasped.

“Do you know me?” the warrior asked. No, not warrior— _deputy_.

“Deadfoot,” Crowpaw said. “You’re Deadfoot.”

A purr rumbled through Deadfoot’s throat as he rested his muzzle on Crowpaw’s head. “I’m glad you recognize me.”

Crowpaw wanted to bury his face into Deadfoot’s shoulder. But Crowpaw wasn’t a kit anymore. He was barely still an apprentice.

He gave Deadfoot’s shoulder a respectful lick, then leaned away from him.

Deadfoot nodded to the boulder in the center of the clearing and bounded up, his body floating slightly as he settled on the stone. Crowpaw scrambled up after him. From the top of the Great Rock, Crowpaw could see the entire clearing where the Clans gathered every full moon. It seemed so much bigger now that it wasn’t full of bossy ThunderClan, smelly RiverClan, and conniving ShadowClan cats.

“Fourtrees has been a symbol of peace between the Clans for generations. It’s the only place that belongs to _all_ Clans, where we can meet not as rivals and enemies, but as Clan cats united by a shared heritage and code,” Deadfoot began. Crowpaw was pretty sure some of his word were lifted from the speech Tallstar gave apprentices before their first Gathering. “A time of great change is upon us. _Over stone and water, toward the setting sun; no Clan will survive unless all are one_.”

A shudder ran up Crowpaw’s spine. Deadfoot’s words carried the weight of a prophecy from StarClan.

“What should I do?” he asked before he thought about what he was saying. Obviously he should tell Tallstar and Barkface about his dream and let them decide what to do. Crowpaw was an ordinary warrior apprentice, not a medicine cat!

“You will meet with three others—cats from ThunderClan, RiverClan, and ShadowClan—on the night of no moon. Together, you will discover what must be done.”

 “You want me to work with other Clans?” Crowpaw’s lip curled back, “But they’re our enemies!” His claws slid out and scraped against the Great Rock despite himself. “Why should WindClan care what happens to them?”

Deadfoot’s voice was stern, but not harsh. “We are four Clans. When one of us is weakened, the others also suffer. A weak Clan is a desperate Clan, and desperation leads to prey-stealing and battles that end in death. Just look at what happened with ShadowClan.”

Shame prickled under Crowpaw’s pelt. He knew that Deadfoot was talking about the misfortune that had befallen ShadowClan, seasons ago, that had led them to rely on the power-hungry traitor Tigerstar as their leader. He had forced RiverClan to submit to them and murdered any cat who stood in his way. In his quest for vengeance against his birth Clan, ThunderClan, he had reached out to a group of ruthless, bloodthirsty rogues that called themselves BloodClan. But he couldn’t control them, and BloodClan attacked the forest in a battle that forced every Clan to fight as one.

Deadfoot lost his life in that battle, fighting to defend WindClan’s home from the invaders.

Crowpaw drew his claws back in, but he couldn’t work the scowl off his face. ThunderClan, ShadowClan, and RiverClan dragged WindClan into their problems and led to the deaths of their warriors. How could he work beside cats that he couldn’t forgive?

Deadfoot rested his tail on Crowpaw’s shoulder. “Do you know why I fought against BloodClan?”

“To protect WindClan,” Crowpaw answered immediately.

Deadfoot mewed in amusement. “I suppose that’s true. I would give my life nine times over for WindClan.” He lowered his head. “But mostly, I did it for you, and for Ashfoot and Eaglekit.”

Pain lanced through Crowpaw at the mention of his dead littermate. Would Eaglekit appear in this dream, too, or were kits not allowed to leave whatever camp existed in StarClan the way they were forbidden from leaving their Clan’s camp in life?

“WindClan will always be important,” Deadfoot went on, “And as deputy, I understood that better than most warriors. But in the heat of battle, what mattered most was protecting my mate and kits. Loyalty to your Clan is one thing, Crowpaw. Love is another.” He looked down at the clearing as if he could still see the battling cats there. “That’s what the Clans fought for that day. It wasn’t about territory or prey—we are Clan cats, and we will be Clan cats wherever we are. What we fought for was each other. That is what you must understand if WindClan is to survive the coming darkness.”

He began to fade, and Crowpaw pressed his forepaws against his father’s pelt. “Wait!”

“ _Over stone and water, toward the setting sun; no Clan will survive unless all are one_!”

The Great Rock trembled under Crowpaw’s feet. He leapt clear and landed on the rumbling earth, turning his head just in time to see the boulder crack and split into four pieces before he raced away toward WindClan.

“ _Crowpaw_!” the wind whistled in his ears, and with a horrified yowl he realized that the moor was no longer there. Beyond Fourtrees, there was nothing but darkness. “ _Crowpaw! Crowpaw!_ ”

 

“Crowpaw!”

Crowpaw jerked up, blue eyes wide. Harekit tumbled off his back, but was quickly replaced by Rabbitkit as the she-kit leaped onto his shoulders.

“Get off!” Crowpaw hissed, rising to his paws and shaking out his pelt.

Harekit and Rabbitkit were unbothered, running in circles around him with giddy mews. Harekit dove under Crowpaw’s belly to catch Rabbitkit by surprise, and Crowpaw had to move quickly to avoid being bowled off his paws by the kits’ playfighting.

Crowpaw looked around the camp, his rapid heartbeat gradually slowing when he saw that it was still there. Barkface and Kestrelpaw emerged from the medicine den under the heather bush, and Kestrelpaw gave him a friendly wave of his tail as they headed over the edge of the hollow to gather herbs. Harekit and Rabbitkit’s mother, Whitetail, was grooming herself outside the nursery while Tornear and Morningflower shared a skinny pigeon not far away. Oatwhisker, Robinwing, and Weaselfur emerged from the gorse around the hollow to report the findings of the morning patrol to Mudclaw, who waited with a twitching tail near the fresh-kill pile.

Everything seemed fine, but Crowpaw’s dream dug into his fur like an enemy warrior’s claws. He needed to tell Barkface or Tallstar, but the medicine cat had just left and Crowpaw didn’t see WindClan’s leader anywhere.

 _That’s just what you get for sleeping in the middle of camp,_ Crowpaw thought. It wasn’t unusual for WindClan cats to sleep under the stars, especially during Greenleaf, but they didn’t usually sleep past dawn; the early morning patrols usually woke any warriors sleeping out as the camp came alive for the day. It was unusual that Crowpaw had managed to sleep through Harekit and Rabbitkit’s noisy games.

Mudclaw greeted Crowpaw with a gruff, “About time you were up.”

“Sorry.” Crowpaw dipped his head. “Have you seen Tallstar?” Even if it was just a dream, Crowpaw would rather Tallstar or Barkface tell him he had nothing to worry about than waste any more time thinking about it.

“Tallstar took Wrenflight to the gorge for a drink,” Mudclaw answered. “You can speak with him later, after you’ve done your training for today. Your assessment is due any day now. I wouldn’t be surprised if you go to the next Gathering as a warrior.”

Crowpaw’s chest swelled and his paws tingled with energy. He was so close to his naming ceremony! Like any apprentice, he was desperate to know what his name would be. Any warrior name would be fine, as long as it wasn’t Crowfoot, which was far too close to _crowfood_ for his liking. He was proud of his parents, but he hoped Tallstar wouldn’t name him after them!

Mudclaw swatted at his ear and Crowpaw ducked out of the way.

“Good reflexes! Maybe you were paying attention after all,” his mentor mewed. “The queens and kits haven’t been hunted for yet. Tornear made a lucky catch to share with Morningflower, but that doesn’t mean your duties are taken care of! I want you to go out and catch what you can, on your own. I’ll be watching from Outlook Rock, so think of it as a practice assessment.”

Crowpaw nodded and raced out of the camp through the gorse tunnel, ignoring Harekit and Rabbitkit’s pleas for him to teach them hunting techniques and feeling even worse for sleeping late. While no cat would let the queens, kits, or elders of their Clan go hungry, hunting for them was Crowpaw’s responsibility as WindClan’s only apprentice. Kestrelpaw, as medicine cat apprentice, didn’t have to put up with the normal apprentice duties. Nightcloud had left the apprentice den a moon ago when she earned her warrior name by leading a stray dog away from camp while Crowpaw was gathering materials for Wrenflight’s nest.

 _I can’t wait until Harekit and Rabbitkit are apprenticed!_ Crowpaw thought, though he hoped he’d be a warrior by then so he wouldn’t have to train with the hyperactive young cats.

Mudclaw had been furious that Nightcloud, a rogue who was most likely descended from BloodClan, was made a warrior before his own Clan-born apprentice. As the days went on, Crowpaw couldn’t help tensing with bitterness whenever he saw Nightcloud and wishing that was the one on patrol while _she_ was gathering moss and ferns for Wrenflight instead.

He would have to make sure this hunt was successful. Maybe if he brought back enough fresh-kill, Tallstar would take Mudclaw at his word and make Crowpaw a warrior without witnessing his assessment himself.

 _Four rabbits would be great right about now,_ Crowpaw sniffed, trying to push thoughts of his dream out of his mind so he could concentrate on hunting. The scrawniest mouse on the fresh-kill pile was worth more than all the rabbits and pheasants he could dream of.

He placed his paws carefully to make sure the dry grass didn’t crunch beneath and kept his muzzle low to pick up the trail of prey. He headed toward the river. Even if there weren’t any mice or rabbits getting a drink, there was a tunnel system close by where they might be hiding out from the heat.

It had been seasons since WindClan had used the tunnels for hunting. The leader before Tallstar banned the practice, but sometimes apprentices still dared each other to go into them. Crowpaw didn’t like being underground, cut off from the sky and the wind, but he would gladly spend a whole day in the tunnels if it meant finding enough prey to become a warrior.

Sure enough, he picked up the rich aroma of rabbit near the entrance to one of the tunnels.

Crowpaw crouched low beside the heather bush, flattening his tail and ears back as a rabbit loped into view. The wind blew his scent away from his prey and disguised him in the safe smell of the blooming flowers, leaving the rabbit completely relaxed and unaware.

The apprentice readied himself for a leap worthy of Windstar herself.

Pawsteps thundered across the field, paired with excited voices. The rabbit jerked up from its nibbling and bolted, kicking up dust in its wake as it disappeared underground. Crowpaw spluttered and sat up, rubbing dirt from his nose as the breeze blew it back into his face.

Angling his ears forward, he fixed a glare on the cats who interrupted him and felt his hackles rise. The wind had hidden their scent, too, but he knew just from their thick, shiny fur and stout frames that they were from RiverClan.

 _Intruders_!


	4. Starlight Chapter Two

_Chapter Two_

Crowpaw’s claws slid out as he dashed to face the strange cats, ripping up the grass beneath his paws.

There were three: an old, mottled brown tom, a golden-furred tabby she-cat with a dark face, and a silver tabby she-cat. Their cheerful chattering stopped when they saw the wiry gray tom in front of them, but their expressions weren’t as concerned as Crowpaw would have hoped.

He didn’t let it bother him. “What are you doing on WindClan territory? Stealing prey?”

The she-cats exchanged a glance, but the old tom waved his tail and answered without worry, “We’re travelling to the Moonstone.”

“The Moonstone?” Crowpaw twitched his whiskers as he breathed in their scent. Beyond the disgusting stink of fish that clung to RiverClan cats, he could detect the subtle tang of herbs clinging to the tom’s pelt. He must be RiverClan’s medicine cat. “But it’s not time for the half-moon meeting yet. And why do you have  _two_ warriors with you?”

“My business with StarClan is not yours to know,” the tom mewed dismissively, “And I have only one warrior with me. Mothwing is my new apprentice.” He touched the top of his tail to the dark-faced she cat’s shoulder.

“Maybe we should come back later, Mudfur,” Mothwing mumbled, “We can see StarClan another time, after I’ve learned more about herbs.”

               “Nonsense! No cat can stop a medicine cat from going to the Moonstone!”

“ _She’s_ not a medicine cat,” Crowpaw said, jabbing his muzzle in the silver she-cats direction. “Who is she? What’s she doing here?”

The silver tabby’s blue eyes shone with amusement, which made Crowpaw’s hackles rise. “I’m Feathertail. I never had a chance to visit the Moonstone before my warrior ceremony, so I’m going now—and I want to see Mothwing become RiverClan’s medicine cat apprentice!”

The nervous golden she-cat gave Feathertail an appreciative look.

Crowpaw dug his claws into the ground. “You two can pass,” he said to Mudfur and Mothwing, “but  _she_ needs to go back to RiverClan. There’s no need for an enemy warrior to be on WindClan territory!”

“That’s enough, Crowpaw.”

The apprentice nearly leapt out of his fur as Tallstar approached. He was the oldest leader in all the Clans, but next to withered old Wrenflight he still looked young and strong. Crowpaw dipped his head in respect when Tallstar came to a stop beside him.

“I was just saying that—”

“I heard you,” Tallstar mewed, then lifted his chin to address the RiverClan cats. “Good day, Mudfur. Are things well in RiverClan?”

“Quite.” Mudfur flicked his tail, apparently annoyed at being stopped, but relieved now that Tallstar had arrived. “We were just on our way to the Moonstone to seek StarClan’s approval of my new apprentice. I had a sign recently, and I believe Mothwing has their blessing to begin her training.”

“Exciting news,” Tallstar purred genially, looking to Mothwing, “I am sure that StarClan has made a wise choice in you. Of course you may continue on to Highstones, and I wish you well on your journey. Should you need to stop and rest, please feel free to stop at the edge of WindClan’s territory.”

“Thank you, Tallstar.” Mudfur lowered his head in thanks, then led Mothwing and Feathertail onward. The pretty silver she-cat looked back at Crowpaw and waved her long tail at him as she headed up the moor with her Clanmates.

Heat rose in Crowpaw’s chest, and he yowled, “And try to be more quiet! You ruined my hunt!”

_Stupid RiverClan!_

“We’ll leave a fish by the falls for you later!” Feathertail called back, all but laughing.

“WindClan doesn’t need RiverClan’s help!” Crowpaw hissed, arching his back. Didn’t these rabbit-brains know  _anything_? “Hurry up and get off our territory—but quietly!”

“Crowpaw,” Tallstar said sternly, “Didn’t you say you were meant to be hunting?”

“Yes, for the kits and elders.”

“Then I suggest you start tracking any prey that hasn’t been scared off by your shouting.” Tallstar stood back, staring down his long muzzle at Crowpaw. “And the next time you encounter a patrol from a rival Clan, send for help instead of trying to take them on alone. You were fortunate to encounter medicine cats on their way to the Moonstone, who we  _always_ allow safe passage across WindClan territory. If that really had been a RiverClan invasion, they would have made short work of a lone apprentice and WindClan would not have been prepared for their attack.”

 _Mudclaw is watching from Outlook Rock,_ Crowpaw wanted to say, but he knew better than to talk back to the Clan leader. Especially when Tallstar was already disappointed in him.

Tallstar nudged Wrenflight, who had settled onto a clump of ferns, back to her paws. “Go on, then,” he said over his shoulder to Crowpaw. “Wrenflight is hungry, I’m sure. Try to catch a lapwing for her, won’t you?”

Crowpaw’s tail lashed against the heather bush, but he said nothing.

His mood did not improve when he realized that Tallstar had been right about all the noise he made. The RiverClan cats had scared off his rabbit, but his own hissing and spitting seemed to have sent the rest of the prey on the moor running for their dens and burrows.

By the time Crowpaw managed to stalk and kill anything worth taking back to WindClan, it was already past sunhigh, and the Greenleaf sun scorched the open moor. Crowpaw thought longingly of the cool, inviting shade of Fourtrees from his dream.

 _That was a dumb dream,_ Crowpaw thought.  _StarClan isn’t going to give an apprentice who can barely hunt a mission to save the Clans!_

Growling irritably, Crowpaw picked up the grouse he’d caught and made his way back to camp. He already knew Mudclaw would be disappointed with his catch.

Crowpaw took the fresh-kill straight to the nursery, only to find Whitetail sharing a rabbit with Harekit and Rabbitkit. She looked up at Crowpaw and purred, “Thank you, Crowpaw, but we’re fine. Rushtail went hunting already. You should go ahead and eat that yourself.”

“Thanks,” Crowpaw growled around the feathers, stalking toward the fresh-kill pile and throwing the grouse on top of another rabbit and a bunch of field mice, his appetite gone. Wrenflight was listening to Nightcloud boasting about how she’d managed to dig up a whole nest of mice and kill them all with one well-timed pounce.

“—five!  _Five_ field mice!” Nightcloud purred, “Every cat will have their fill tonight!”

“Yes… strange that Greenleaf has given us such difficult hunting,” Wrenflight mewed, tucking her paws under her so she could relax in the shade of the gorse wall. “When I was a young cat, Greenleaf was a time of plenty. There were so many rabbits on the moor that sometimes they got confused and ran into camp! Why, one time, back when Onewhisker was still Fleetpaw…”

Crowpaw turned his ears away from the elder. He’d heard this story plenty of times in the nursery, but Nightcloud never seemed to get tired of listening to Wrenflight yammer on about the past.

 _It’s not like things are so different now,_ he thought.

Mudclaw emerged from the warrior’s den, narrowing his eyes when he saw Crowpaw sitting beside the full fresh-kill pile. A few other cats sat up to pay attention when he strode across the camp toward his apprentice.

“Good hunting, Crowpaw?” Mudclaw asked.

Crowpaw pressed a claw into his grouse. “Not great, but I did catch this.”

“You should have been back ages ago,” Mudclaw continued as if he hadn’t spoken. “Rushtail had to hunt for Whitetail and the kits. That is  _your_ responsibility, Crowpaw.”

“I know,” Crowpaw mewed, “But—”

“But the RiverClan patrol got in your way?” the deputy sniffed. “If it had been me—”

“You would have let them pass,” Tallstar cut him off from his place at the top of the hollow, where he could keep an eye on the whole Clan. “That patrol was headed for Highstones, to commune with StarClan. They are allowed safe passage. WindClan may be the Clan closest to StarClan, but we are not the only Clan who honors them.” He curled his long tail toward his haunches, then let it fall straight across the ground with a slap. “That is the way of the warrior code. Do not forget it, Mudclaw.”

“Of course, Tallstar.” Although Mudclaw relented, Crowpaw saw him curl his lips back into a brief snarl when he turned his head away from Tallstar. “Clearly you need more practice stalking prey, Crowpaw. You will join the evening hunting patrol with me, Robinwing, and Webfoot.”

“I would be happy to, Mudclaw,” Crowpaw answered, his own claws leaving neat scratches in the sand as he extended and retracted them in time with the heartbeat pounding in his ears.

“Good. Eat and get some rest. I won’t have you stumbling around on tired paws while we’re hunting.” Mudclaw snapped up the grouse for himself and walked back to the warrior’s den to share with Weaselfur.

Crowpaw almost hoped he choked on one of the feathers.

“Hey, Crowpaw!” Nightcloud called, beckoning him with a twitch of her ears, “Why don’t you get a mouse and I’ll tell you how I caught them all? It’s a great story!”

“I already heard you talking about it,” Crowpaw snapped, “You don’t have to brag to the whole Clan just because you got lucky, you know.”

Ignoring her hurt expression, he turned away and padded to the apprentice’s den, not bothering to take anything from the fresh-kill pile. He’d eat after he rested. It wasn’t like he had much of an appetite just then, anyway.

Crowpaw pushed his way through the gorse tunnel into the den, only to be met with the surprised gasps of Rabbitkit and Harekit. They had been playing in the apprentice’s den, and his nest was in pieces on the ground.

“Get out!” Crowpaw hissed, and the kits ran off with their fur fluffed out.

At least Nightcloud’s old nest was untouched. He sank into the clumps of fern and heather, rolling over a few times, then rested his head on his paws with a groan. He couldn’t get comfortable, and Nightcloud’s scent only reminded him of how wounded she looked when he didn’t praise her catch.

Could things possibly get any worse?


	5. Starlight Chapter Three

_Chapter Three_

Hunting with Mudclaw, Robinwing, and Webfoot wasn’t going any better than hunting alone.

Even though the sun was beginning to set, the long days and searing warmth lingered on the moor without so much as a breeze to cut through the stifling heat. Usually prey came out at dusk, after the hottest part of the day passed but before the nighttime predators emerged. Crowpaw couldn’t pick up so much as a sniff of a rabbit or mouse.

“We might as well head back,” Webfoot groaned, pressing a dry stalk of grass noisily into the ground. “We can try again after moonrise.”

“ _You_ can, if you like,” Robinwing snorted. “ _Some_ of us don’t want to be up all night, thank you. And I was on the morning patrol, too!”

Mudclaw lifted his nose, trying to glean signs of prey from the nonexistent wind. Crowpaw ducked his head, the mouse he’d taken from the fresh-kill pile before leaving for the patrol weighing heavily in his stomach.

“Has every cat eaten?” Mudclaw asked finally.

“The elders and kits have,” Crowpaw answered.

Mudclaw twitched an ear. “Webfoot and I will hunt again later, with any cat who wants to come with us. We don’t want to have nothing on the fresh-kill pile in the morning. For now we’ll return to—”

“Help!” a desperate yowl split the air, “Help us, please!”

Crowpaw whipped his head toward the source of the cry and felt his hackles rise in frustration. It was the silver tabby she-cat again! Couldn’t RiverClan ever keep quiet? Just because their prey lived underwater and couldn’t hear didn’t mean the same was true for every Clan!

Feathertail spotted their patrol and came running. Robinwing growled, and Webfoot’s claws parted the grass.

“Stop!” Mudclaw demanded, and the she-cat slowed to a halt in front of them. “What are you doing on our territory?”

“It’s Mudfur!” Feathertail panted, looking back and forth between the WindClan cats. “We were nearly to Highstones when he collapsed! He didn’t have any water before we left, and it’s still so hot out. Please, can we rest in WindClan’s camp?”

“That is not our concern.” Mudclaw extended his claws. “You are granted safe passage across our territory  _to_ Highstones, but that doesn’t mean you can go running around anywhere you want on your way back—certainly not our camp! I’m sure Mudfur will feel fine once you get him back to his territory. The sooner you go, the better.”

Feathertail arched her back and let out an impressive hiss. “He could die!”

Robinwing and Webfoot pressed forward at Mudclaw’s sides. Crowpaw dropped his weight onto his hind legs so he would be ready to swipe with his front paws if Feathertail attacked. It would be foolish of her to try to take on a full patrol by herself, but RiverClan weren’t known for their intelligence. If they were, Mudfur would have had a drink before leaving their water-filled territory for the dry moor.

Feathertail wrinkled her nose and spat before racing away, probably back toward wherever Mudfur and Mothwing were waiting.

“Let’s report this to Tallstar,” Webfoot said.

“No,” Mudclaw retorted. “It’s been handled. There’s no need to involve Tallstar.”

“Why wouldn’t we tell Tallstar?” Robinwing asked, but Mudclaw shot her a look that made her turn her head and become suddenly interested in an invisible patch of dust on her forepaw.

Crowpaw watched Feathertail as she became smaller and smaller, fading into the hazy distance. His paws itched worse than the time he’d scraped his pads on a sharp rock. Tallstar invited the medicine cats to stop and rest on WindClan’s territory if they needed to, but he’d said they were welcome to the outer edges of the moor, not the camp.

Still, Mudclaw not telling Tallstar didn’t sit well with Crowpaw. He felt like a tick had dug in between his shoulder blades where he couldn’t reach it.

“I’ll keep an eye on them,” Crowpaw offered, shocking himself as well as Mudclaw. “To make sure they really leave, I mean. We don’t want them hanging around. Right?”

Mudclaw gave him an appraising look before nodding. “Very well, Crowpaw. You can escort them from our territory—but if there is any trouble, I expect you to run for help immediately.”

Crowpaw ducked his head in gratitude and raced after Feathertail’s distant form. His dark pelt would help him go unnoticed as night fell, though he wasn’t sure he wanted to stay hidden. Feathertail was the only warrior with the RiverClan cats, and he was sure he could take her on if it came to that.

He found the RiverClan patrol over the rise of the next hill. Mudfur lay with his paws sprawled out next to a gorse bush, breathing hard while Mothwing lapped at his thick pelt in an attempt to cool him down. Feathertail’s fur was still bushed out in frustration as she approached them.

“WindClan are no help at all!” she snapped. “Self-important minnows! Why, if I ever catch Mudclaw drowning in the river, we’ll just see who asks for help then!” She stood with stiff legs and put her nose up in the air in her best impression of the deputy. “ _‘That is not our concern_. _’_  Frog droppings!”

“Keep your voice down, Feathertail!” Mothwing whispered. “You’ll only work yourself up, and what am I going to do if you  _and_ Mudfur faint?” She sighed, resting a paw between Mudfur’s ears. “Can you get help from the Clan? If we just had some cat to fetch him some water…”

“I can try, but I don’t know if we can get back in time. And WindClan is sure to think we’re invading if they see another RiverClan cat today. Not that I wouldn’t love ripping that smug look off some of their faces!”

“What we need are herbs, but which  _ones_?” Mothwing rubbed her face with a forepaw. “I think marigold is for… bites? And cobwebs stop bleeding. Tansy is good for, uh… Oh, frog droppings! I wish the travelling herbs hadn’t dried up!”

Crowpaw flattened his ears, ready to chase Feathertail all the way back to RiverClan, but he knew Tallstar would make him stay an apprentice for at  _least_ another moon if he did, even if it pleased Mudclaw. He  _would_ run back to WindClan camp and fetch Kestrelpaw, who knew enough about herbs to give Mothwing advice and get them on their way, but there was no way to do that without letting Tallstar know what was happening—and Mudclaw had expressly forbidden any of the patrol from doing that.

_Why does it have to be so impossible to please them both? Think, Crowpaw!_

Mudfur needed to get back to RiverClan. He couldn’t go to WindClan for help. Feathertail and Mothwing could carry him, but they were too slow.

Crowpaw forced his fur to lie flat and abandoned his cover. If he could only please his leader or his deputy, he might as well please his leader.

“I can go get water,” he said, startling Mothwing so badly the she-cat nearly swiped at him. He ignored her, focusing on Feathertail. “I’m the fastest, and I know where the best moss grows for carrying water. You can go back to RiverClan and have some cats waiting at the border—we’ll bring Mudfur there, and then your Clan can take him the rest of the way home.”

Feathertail considered his offer for less than a heartbeat before she nodded. “I’ll be as quick as I can! Don’t worry, Mothwing!”

Realizing that she was going to be alone with Mudfur again, Mothwing looked  _very_  worried. “But how can we trust him to do what he says?” she asked, but Feathertail was already racing toward the border.

“Keep him in the shade,” Crowpaw instructed, then headed for the narrower passage of the river. There were rocks along the edge where moss grew. Though WindClan did not usually line their nests with moss the way other Clans did, apprentices were still taught how to collect it in case there was ever a drought. Crowpaw had been practicing as Greenleaf’s intense heat wore on, just in case it was needed.

He ran and ran, his dark pelt camouflaging him from the view of his Clan as the sun sank lower and lower. The last thing he wanted was for Mudclaw to scold him for helping RiverClan’s medicine cat instead of chasing him off, regardless of what Tallstar might say.

Crowpaw felt lighter than air and as fast as the wind as he ran, paws flying. He  _was_ the fastest in WindClan, in  _all_  the Clans, and he would  _not_ fail to bring water back to Mudfur in time.

The moss stone soon came into view. He nearly passed it as he slowed his pace gradually. That was the first lesson WindClan apprentices were taught: never go from a sprint to a dead stop. Even when he gave himself time to wind down so his heart and lungs could catch up to him, he still ached and took a moment to stop breathing hard.

He used that moment to crouch beside the stone, scooping up a pawful of moss and pressing it into a firm ball. Carefully, he picked the moss up in his mouth and dipped his muzzle into the churning foam, recoiling at the icy chill on his muzzle. How did RiverClan willingly swim in that freezing water?

Carefully, he brought the moss back, unable to run at full speed for risk of losing most of the water. But, by the time he got back to the gorse bush where Mudfur and Mothwing were sheltering, the moss ball was still cold from the water contained within.

Crowpaw set the moss down in front of Mudfur and Mothwing prodded his shoulder, pressing hard with both of her forepaws until the old medicine cat stirred.

“This WindClan apprentice brought you water,” Mothwing mewed between licks around his ears. “Drink up, Mudfur. Feathertail is fetching help, but we need to get to the border.”

Mudfur struggled to sit up and took the moss ball into his mouth, squeezing the water out with tired jaws. Crowpaw tried not to feel too put-out as the moss broke apart and fell to the Mudfur’s paws. The old tom coughed—one moss ball’s worth of water clearly wasn’t enough—but at least he was moving. Once he was done coughing, he got to his feet, leaning heavily on Mothwing. Crowpaw moved to his other side and tried to ignore the heat radiating from his thick fur.

They abandoned the shade of the gorse bush, but at least there was barely any sunlight left in the sky now. The ground was cooling beneath their paws with every step.

Mudfur cast his gaze upward, at the stars. This made Mothwing more nervous and she curled her tail over his back, nudging him on a little faster.

Soon enough they caught sight of a silver cat rushing back toward them, obviously out of breath as she skidded to a halt.

“Stormfur’s waiting!” Feathertail panted. “I met him and Beechwhisker hunting near the border. Beechwhisker’s gone to tell Leopardstar what happened.” She nudged Crowpaw out of the way, her pelt brushing against his in a way that tickled his fur from whiskers to tail-tip. “Thanks for your help, Crowpaw, but we can take him from here.”

“We never made it to Highstones…” Mothwing mewed quietly. “Do you think that’s a sign that StarClan don’t want me to be RiverClan’s medicine cat?”

“Of course not, it’s just bad luck!” Feathertail said without hesitation. “You’ll be a great medicine cat, Mothwing.” She flicked her ear at Crowpaw. “Shouldn’t you be going back to your camp?”

Crowpaw shook his head. He hadn’t realized he’d been lingering. “Yeah. I’m going. Don’t be so mouse-brained about crossing WindClan territory next time!”

He turned, but he was so focused on where he put his paws that he wasn’t paying attention to his tail, and the tip of it hooked around Feathertail’s. Both of them glanced back at each other, noses twitching in embarrassment, and then Crowpaw loped off toward WindClan’s camp.

 _Better catch something,_ he thought distantly. Maybe he could meet up with Mudclaw and Webfoot’s patrol…

 _Oh, no!_ Crowpaw thought,  _I forgot they were going to be out hunting after moonrise!_

Maybe he’d gotten lucky, and Mudclaw had been hunting somewhere else—somewhere he wouldn’t see Crowpaw getting water for Mudfur, or helping him to the border.

He was too anxious to focus on hunting. Instead he headed straight back to camp. He could always say he’d decided to try hunting somewhere else, or been too tired after chasing the RiverClan cats back home. At least Mudclaw couldn’t bring up what he’d really done to Tallstar without revealing something he clearly didn’t want to concern Tallstar with.

Crowpaw crept back through the gorse tunnel and bumped straight into Kestrelpaw, who dropped a bundle of herbs with a surprised, “Oof!”

“Sorry,” Crowpaw mumbled.

Kestrelpaw shook himself off. “No harm done.” He perked up, recognizing the Clan’s only other apprentice, “Hey, Crowpaw! Want to make a bet on—”

“Who will get his full name first?” Crowpaw finished. Kestrelpaw always started every conversation with the same question lately. “After today, I’d wager a full moon of dawn patrol that it’s you.”

Kestrelpaw’s eyes sparked knowingly. “We’ll see! I heard Tallstar asking Mudclaw some questions about your training earlier,  _and_ I caught Ashfoot leaving his den when I took him his daily burnet.”

Crowpaw’s heart soared. Maybe he’d be getting his warrior name soon after all! He’d like to see Mudclaw try to get him in trouble with Tallstar once he was a warrior—deputy or not, he couldn’t treat Crowpaw like an apprentice fresh out of the nursery once he had his full name.


	6. Starlight Chapter Four

_Chapter Four_

“You wanted to see me?” Crowpaw asked, unable to keep the excited twitch out of his tail-tip.

Tallstar slowly turned his head away from the moor, stepping down from Outlook Rock to speak to Crowpaw on more or less equal footing.

“You have the potential to be an excellent warrior,” Tallstar began. “I see much of your father in you.”

Crowpaw knew he meant it as praise, but it was hard to not to wince at the comparison. Or think of his dream, which became hazier and hazier in his mind as more sunrises passed.

“Your apprenticeship is nearing its end. However,” Crowpaw bit back a hiss of frustration, “I cannot make you a warrior before Harekit and Rabbitkit are apprenticed. Leaving WindClan without apprentices would not be for the best.” He rested his long tail across Crowpaw’s shoulders. “I know it is frustrating to wait, but a warrior does what is best for the Clan—not just what is best for him.” When Crowpaw didn’t reply, he added, “It won’t be long now. They’ll be apprentices in less than a moon. In the meantime, the half-moon gathering is tonight. I would like you to accompany Barkface and Kestrelpaw to the Moonstone.”

Crowpaw lifted his head. Hearing that he would have to sleep in the lonely apprentice’s den for another moon was not welcome news, but at least he was getting his visit to Highstones out of the way. “Okay, Tallstar. I understand.”

He made his way toward the medicine den. Even though WindClan’s camp was the closest to Highstones, he would still need traveling herbs to make the rough journey.

His pelt itched as though he’d fallen asleep on an anthill, bitterness making his hackles rise when he saw Nightcloud laughing with Rushtail and Oatwhisker as they returned from a border patrol. It should be _her_ waiting for her warrior ceremony, not him!

His mood didn’t improve when he was greeted by Kestrelpaw’s cheerful mew in the medicine den.

“Hi, Crowpaw!” The mottled brown tom was sorting herbs. Crowpaw had the sudden urge to swipe his paw over them and scatter the neat piles. “How’d things go with Tallstar?”

“Did you hear him calling a Clan meeting to give me my warrior name?”

“Uh… no?”

“That’s how things went.” Crowpaw sat down, dust rising as his hindquarters struck the ground. “But I’m going to the Moonstone with you and Barkface tonight, so I need—”

“Sorrel!” Kestrelpaw mewed brightly, dragging a pawful of green leaves toward them. “And, hm, daisy, I think… or is it dock…?”

“Maybe we should wait for Barkface,” Crowpaw suggested. Where was the old tom, anyway?

“No, I’ve got it! Definitely daisy!” Kestrelpaw replied, adding a few white and yellow flowers to the leaves. “And usually there’s burnet, too, but we’re saving all our burnet for the older cats at the moment. Does wonders for them.” He pushed the plants toward Crowpaw. “Go on, eat up!”

 _All of it?_ Crowpaw thought with a grimace. He chewed up the bitter herbs, leaving half the pile. Kestrelpaw didn’t seem to notice.

 

As it turned out, Barkface had been in the nursery, checking on Morningflower. She was having stomach pains and thought the kits might be coming, but he assured her she simply ate some bad prey and the kits—which were fine—would probably not arrive before the next full-moon. He recounted this information in _great_ detail as he, Kestrelpaw, and Crowpaw sat on the edge of WindClan territory, watching the sun fade below the horizon.

Crowpaw didn’t see why they had to wait for the other Clans, but Tallstar insisted they escort the other medicine cats to Highstones.

 _I get it, medicine cats get a pass on crossing the borders,_ Crowpaw thought sourly. If he was going to be punished for stopping the RiverClan patrol, he wished he’d just _be_ punished instead of wondering if he was in trouble or not.

A gray cat came limping up the hillside from the forest, a small brown and white tabby she-cat with her.

Barkface purred in greeting. “Cinderpelt. And…?”

“Leafpaw,” the gray cat introduced her with a proud gleam in her eye. “My new apprentice.”

“Well met, Leafpaw.” Barkface dipped his head. “This is my apprentice, Kestrelpaw, and Crowpaw, who will be joining us before his warrior ceremony.”

Realizing that they were going to wait there, Leafpaw sat down and curled her tail neatly over her paws. “Hi,” she mewed shyly.

“Hi!” Kestrelpaw exclaimed. Leafpaw bent her head to smooth the fur on her tail that stood up at his loud greeting.

“Here comes Littlecloud,” Cinderpelt went on, turning toward ShadowClan territory. A tabby tom no bigger than Leafpaw was making his way toward them, though he was too far off to call out to just yet.

“And there’s RiverClan,” Barkface said, “Looks like it’s going to be a crowded meeting tonight.”

Crowpaw’s heart dropped into his paws when he saw the too-familiar shapes of Mudfur, Mothwing, _and_ Feathertail. The silver she-cat waved her tail in greeting when they joined the group, though thankfully she didn’t say anything about how he’d helped them before.

“Why are _you_ here?” he hissed under his breath.

“I told you before, I need to go to the Moonstone, and I want to see Mothwing become a medicine cat apprentice!” She didn’t bother keeping her voice down.

“ _Two_ new apprentices!” Kestrelpaw hopped up on his hind legs in excitement. “It’s going to be so great not to be the only one anymore!”

 _Speak for yourself!_ Crowpaw wanted to spit at him.

Despite being quite a bit bigger than either of them, Mothwing looked as nervous as Leafpaw.

“Do you think they’ll make my name Mothpaw again?” the golden she-cat asked.

“No! Mudfur was a warrior before he was a medicine cat, too, and they didn’t change his name,” Feathertail answered. “Also, it’s nice to meet you, Leafpaw!” The brown tabby tucked her tail closer at the sound of her name. “How’re things in ThunderClan?”

“Just fine,” Leafpaw said, as if she wasn’t sure how much to tell these strange cats.

“How’s Graystripe?” Feathertail pressed. “You know him, right? Of course you do. He’s the deputy. How is he?”

“Just… fine?” Leafpaw repeated with uncertainty.

Feathertail hardly noticed, purring with relief. Crowpaw vaguely recalled hearing that she was half-Clan, so the ThunderClan deputy must be her father. It sounded ridiculous, but that was ThunderClan in a rabbit hole. Only a Clan led by a former kittypet would let a traitor who took a mate in a different Clan be deputy.

Irritation made Crowpaw scratch at his pelt like he was chasing off a persistent flea. Being stuck with all these strange cats was just as bad as a Gathering—worse, even, because they were _all_ medicine cats. He couldn’t even try to get useful information about other Clans’ fighting skills out of them. The sooner the night ended, the better.

The medicine cats continued talking amongst themselves once Littlecloud arrived, the tom warmly greeting Cinderpelt and exchanging pleasantries with Barkface and Mudfur. Kestrelpaw couldn’t keep his paws still, weaving between Mothwing and Leafpaw as if they were his own Clanmates.

Then, not a moment too soon, they were off toward Highstones.

Crowpaw pushed ahead at the front of the group, keeping a slight distance between himself and the rest of them. At least there weren’t any WindClan hunting patrols out to be disturbed by their chatter, but he wished they would stop talking. Especially after Kestrelpaw caught up to him.

“Hey, Crowpaw! Come walk with us. Mothwing’s got some interesting stories about—”

“I’m not interested,” Crowpaw said curtly. He didn’t slow his pace until the grassy moor gave way to the hard rock path that led to Highstones.

Next came the part Crowpaw dreaded most.

The Moonstone lay beneath Highstones, in the bottom of the cave called Mothermouth. For the next leg of the journey, they would be travelling in complete darkness through a narrow tunnel until they reached the Moonstone’s cavern. Kestrelpaw and Barkface didn’t seem to mind, but Crowpaw couldn’t imagine anything more horrifying than going underground. He’d rather face BloodClan in battle than go down there.

 _It’s just the one time,_ he reasoned. _Just once to get your warrior name, then never, ever again._

“You okay?” Feathertail was suddenly at his shoulder, and he dug his claws into the shifting pebbles under his paws.

“Yes, I’m fine,” he responded, flicking his tail. He couldn’t let these other cats know he was afraid. Why did Tallstar make him go with them? Why not _just_ with Barkface and Kestrelpaw?

“We’d better get going if we want to be there before moonhigh,” Cinderpelt said, oblivious to him. She disappeared into the dark, Leafpaw close on her twisted heel. Littlecloud went next, then Mudfur and Mothwing. Feathertail lingered behind until the WindClan cats went down, staying back with Crowpaw—whether he wanted her to or not.

Somehow the presence of the silver she-cat _did_ make him feel better, and he was glad no one could see the relief she brought him. She wasn’t a medicine cat, either. Going into Mothermouth and visiting the Moonstone was just as weird for her as it was for him. But she could do it, so he could, too.

He did his best to ignore the stone walls pressing against his sides as they went, the way the ground sloped unnaturally down, into the raven-black darkness ahead.

Finally, the tunnel widened into the cavern. At first it seemed like any other hole in the ground. Then the moon shifted, a bright beam reaching down through the cavern ceiling and touching the stone in its center.

Light sparkled through it, filling the whole cavern with a silvery glow that reminded Crowpaw of how Deadfoot looked in his dream. Mothwing’s thick pelt fluffed out, and Leafpaw’s mouth hung open. Feathertail’s eyes shone with the same light as the Moonstone. They weren’t allowed to speak until they left the cave, so she caught Crowpaw’s attention and mouthed, “Wow!”

The no-talking rule didn’t apply to Cinderpelt and Mudfur. They stood in front of the Moonstone, eyes resting on their respective apprentices.

“Leafpaw, is it your wish to enter the mysteries of StarClan as a medicine cat?” Cinderpelt asked.

“It is,” Leafpaw squeaked.

“Then come forward.” Once she was standing at her mentor’s side, they turned to face the Moonstone together. “Warriors of StarClan, I present you with this apprentice. She has chosen the path of a medicine cat. Grant her your wisdom and insight so that she may understand your ways and heal her Clan in accordance with your will.”

They laid down close to the stone and touched it with their noses together, closing their eyes as they drifted into sleep to share dreams with StarClan.

Mothwing was next. Mudfur repeated the ceremony with her, and then they too rested beside the stone. Only then did Littlecloud, Barkface, and Kestrelpaw join them.

Without much else to do, Crowpaw and Feathertail eased onto the cold floor of the cave, rested their heads on their paws, and waited until it was time to leave.

 

When Crowpaw opened his eyes again, he was at Fourtrees.

Deadfoot sat on top of the Great Rock with three other cats Crowpaw didn’t recognize.

Wind tugged at his fur, and he could see the shapes of three other cats standing in the clearing, facing the Great Rock like he was.

One of them was Feathertail. She stared, eyes clouded with grief, at a gray tom with a notch missing out of his ear.

On Crowpaw’s other side, there was a large, dark tabby tom, looking up with interest at a tom with a distinct red tail.

He couldn’t see the cats on the other side of the Great Rock.

Above, the sky was darker than Crowpaw had ever seen.

_Over stone and water, toward the setting sun;_

_No Clan will survive unless all are one._

 

A gentle paw roused Crowpaw from his dream.

He thought he’d only closed his eyes for a moment, but it was already time to leave.

He stood and stretched, then followed Barkface back into the tunnel. It wasn’t as bad when he knew he was moving toward the open sky, but that didn’t stop him from heaving a sigh of relief once they were out.

“That was a concerning omen,” Littlecloud said, watching the sky as if it might come crashing down at any moment. “What do you think it meant?”

“I’m not sure,” Barkface admitted. “I saw the ground tearing open, and rabbit skeletons on the fresh-kill pile.”

Crowpaw was alarmed. Did medicine cats always share their omens?

“It was dreadful,” Mudfur agreed. “The river was dry, nothing but skeletons, too.”

“Is it always like that?” Mothwing shook.

“No, not always,” Cinderpelt mewed soothingly to her and Leafpaw. “I think we had best report this back to our leaders at once. There are prey-poor times coming for all the Clans, that much is certain. We must decide what to do.”

Finally, a cat with some sense who didn’t trust cats from other Clans before her leader!

Unease settled over the group as they journeyed down the slope from Highstones. Crowpaw did not envy the other Clan cats their long walk back to their nests.

The fact that the medicine cats had dreamed of destruction and poor hunting was no comfort, but it did ease Crowpaw’s suspicions that his dream meant anything. If StarClan really was giving him a prophecy, wouldn’t the medicine cats have received the same one?

His distraction let Feathertail catch up and walk beside him.

“Did you dream, too?” she asked.

“Why would I?” Crowpaw returned.

“It’s just… I did,” Feathertail whispered, “And I thought I saw you there, too.”

Crowpaw snorted to cover the flutter in his chest at her words. “Why would a RiverClan warrior be dreaming about a WindClan cat?”

“I don’t know, but it seemed important,” Feathertail said. “I thought I could see a ShadowClan warrior, too. Stonefur was there, and he said—” Crowpaw froze, “—Over stone and water, toward the setting sun; no Clan will survive unless all are one.”


	7. Starlight Chapter Five

_Chapter Five_

“ _Crowpaw! Psst, Crowpaw!_ ”

Mortified, the apprentice stopped dead in his tracks. Mudclaw turned his head to look at him over his shoulder. He said nothing, but the glare in his eyes got the message across. Crowpaw was glad that he was too tired to speak, though his hunger had done little to improve his temper.

“Ow!” Crowpaw whined, lifting his forepaw. “I stepped on a nettle! Ooh, ow…”

Ashfoot whirled on him, her mew full of concern. “Let me see.”

Crowpaw held his paw away, licking at the perfectly unharmed pad. “It’s fine, I’ve got it. Just… go on without me. I’ll catch up in a minute.”

“Make sure you see Barkface after the patrol.” The gray she-cat brushed his neck and shoulder with her cheek, then ran after Mudclaw, who had not bothered to stop and see if his apprentice was alright.

Crowpaw waited until he was sure Ashfoot wouldn’t turn back around before prowling to the gorse bush, tail lashing. “ _What_ are you doing here?”

Feathertail emerged from her cover, grooming stray bits of twig and pollen from her fur. Despite the fact that an enemy warrior was on his territory, Crowpaw couldn’t help but feel himself soften at the way Feathertail’s eyes shone in the sunlight.

“I came to see you, obviously,” Feathertail purred, and Crowpaw’s heart soared into the clouds. “We had the same dream at the Moonstone—that must mean it’s important. And there were two other cats there, right?” She padded in a slow circle. “I saw you, and you saw me. But I also saw a pale tortoiseshell she-cat. I recognized her from Gatherings as a ShadowClan cat, but I don’t know her. So, we need to know who she is, and find out if she had the same dream.” She sat down in front of Crowpaw. “So that leaves your mystery cat, the one on the other side of the Great Rock from me.”

“I don’t know any cats in other Clans, except you. And Mothwing, I guess,” Crowpaw said with a twitch of his whisker.

“You know Leafpaw and Mudfur and Littlecloud and Cinderpelt,” Feathertail pointed out.

“No, I don’t!” Crowpaw spat. “I just met them once. That’s all.”

“Well, did you ever meet this other cat once?”

“No.” Crowpaw tried to remember him, but it had been over a quarter moon since he had the dream. “He was a tabby, a dark tabby. And big.”

“He must be from ThunderClan,” Feathertail said. “If I’m RiverClan, you’re WindClan, and my tortoiseshell is from ShadowClan, then it stands to reason your tabby is from ThunderClan.”

 _Great_ , Crowpaw thought. _Just what I need in my life._

“Why are you so intent on finding out who these other cats are?” Crowpaw asked.

“Because StarClan obviously wants us to do something!” Feathertail’s mew was excited rather than angry. “Don’t you want to know who the other cats are? If they’ve had the same dream as you? This could be a quest from StarClan! We could be _chosen_ by _StarClan_!”

Crowpaw sat down, folding his tail over his paws. “All I want to be chosen for is a warrior ceremony before Leaf-fall.”

“When my father was my age, he’d already been on loads of adventures,” Feathertail sighed. “Actually, by the time he was my age, my father went on a journey to bring back WindClan from exile. But you wouldn’t have been born yet, I don’t think.”

“I’m sure WindClan would have been fine on their own,” Crowpaw sniffed.

Feathertail was unbothered. “This is important, Crowpaw. The Gathering is coming up. Do whatever it takes, but be there, and we’ll find the other two cats together!”

 _If they’re there_ , Crowpaw thought, but she was already diving back across the border toward RiverClan territory. Crowpaw felt like she was taking a part of him with her.

He stood and shook out his pelt. He’d delayed too long already. Mudclaw and Ashfoot were waiting, and the Clan was hungry.

 

The WindClan camp was eerily quiet when the border patrol returned with what little prey they’d encountered on the way, just one rabbit and a mouse between them. The morning hunting patrol had only found an injured sparrow and a gopher, and Gorsetail nearly lost her life chasing it down into an abandoned tunnel that caved in just as she escaped.

All the warriors were looking a little scrawny and ill-tempered at a time when they should be full and content. If it were Leaf-bare or even Leaf-fall, Crowpaw would expect as much. But for them to be in such a poor state in Greenleaf… what would happen when hunting conditions got even worse as the cold set in?

Catching Ashfoot’s eye, he made his way toward the medicine den, trying to come up with a convincing lie as to why his nettle-stung paw was perfectly fine.

He could just hear Tallstar and Barkface speaking in hushed tones inside the den.

“… shown you anything else? A sign of where the prey has gone?”

“Nothing, Tallstar. Only bones and torn land.” Barkface sighed. “This message did not come to WindClan alone. I think we should discuss it with the other Clans at the Gathering.”

“We’ll see,” Tallstar said. “We don’t want the other Clans to know we’re hungry.”

Crowpaw glanced back toward the center clearing of WindClan’s camp. Ashfoot wasn’t looking anymore, so he quietly padded away from the medicine den, his tail dragging on the ground. WindClan was in serious trouble, and he was chatting with rival warriors about dreams instead of doing all he could for his Clanmates.

Mudclaw was laying in the middle of camp, eyes closed, completely exhausted. He might be the biggest grump in the Clans, but Crowpaw couldn’t deny that he gave his all to serve his Clan. He was lucky to have him as a mentor.

Crowpaw settled beside him and closed his eyes, dreaming of a river running full of rabbits and blue eyes that shimmered in the light of the full Gathering moon.


	8. Starlight Chapter Six

_Chapter Six_

Mudclaw picked up the mouse in his jaws and threw it at Nightcloud’s feet while the black she-cat cowered, her tail curled tightly around her paws.

Tallstar looked down from the Tallrock, sympathy lighting his golden gaze. “Are these accusations true, Nightcloud?”

“Yes,” Nightcloud squeaked out, “But I only did it to feed WindClan!”

Crowpaw’s claws gripped the grass under his paws and he stared at the shreds, unable to look up at his former denmate, his mentor, or his leader. He couldn’t see what Nightcloud had done wrong; the warrior code forbade hunting on another Clan’s territory, but she had gone to the Twoleg farm outside of the Clan territories, and had permission from the barn cats to take some of their mice. All she had done was lie about where the mice came from—not that it mattered, since Mudclaw found her out anyway.

“Your intentions were good,” Tallstar admitted. “However, you disobeyed direct orders from your deputy to stand watch at Outlook Rock. If a hungry buzzard or hawk had been flying overhead, we could have very well lost a cat.” He twitched the end of his long tail. “You will stay in camp tonight and think about what you’ve done.”

Nightcloud lowered her head. “Yes, Tallstar.”

“Mudclaw, the cats who will be attending the Gathering, if you please,” Tallstar mewed, jumping down from the rock. Crowpaw looked up at just the wrong time to see him wince as he landed. Even though he had nine lives, his age was obviously starting to catch up to him, and the way Mudclaw surged up to the top of Tallrock only made it all the more obvious.

“The cats attending the Gathering tonight are—” Mudclaw took a moment to survey his Clanmates, “—Ashfoot, Onewhisker, Tornear, Robinwing, Rushtail, Owlwhisker, Kestrelpaw, Crowpaw, and Whitetail. Rest and eat what you can.”

The cats whose names were spoken meandered in the direction of the fresh-kill pile, and Crowpaw noticed they deliberately moved in a wide circle around the mouse Mudclaw had thrown from the pile, and didn’t take any other mice caught by Nightcloud.

The dark she-cat slunk away toward the gorse wall, dodging a hiss from Owlwhisker and pretending not to hear Gorsetail say, “What else would you expect from a rogue?”

Crowpaw darted into the crowd of cats pawing at the fresh-kill pile and swiped two mice by their tails, padding after Nightcloud. He found her curled up with her paws over her ears in the apprentice’s den, where her nest used to be.

Crowpaw dropped one of the mice in front of her. “No use letting these go to waste.”

Nightcloud looked up in shock. When her eyes landed on Crowpaw, she mewed with a wavering voice, “I meant to do the right thing. I really did.”

“I believe you,” Crowpaw said with a disinterested twitch of his whisker. “I would have done the same, if I had the idea.”

“But it’s different for you,” Nightcloud sniffed. “You’re a _real_ WindClan cat. I’m just a rogue.”

“Nightcloud is a funny name for a rogue.” Crowpaw took a bite out of his mouse. They were far plumper than any he’d seen on WindClan territory in a while.

She was quiet as she took hesitant bites of her mouse, and Crowpaw doubted his words made her feel any better. She was right, and he knew it. The fact that she came from outside of WindClan would always follow her like a second shadow, no matter how good of a warrior she was or how good her intentions were. Even Tallstar, knowing that she only had what was best for WindClan in her mind and heart, couldn’t protect her from the outrage and judgment of her Clanmates. There were plenty who would probably see being banned from a Gathering to be a flick on the whiskers when it came to punishment. Mudclaw probably would have had her doing apprentice duties for a half moon.

“Oh, shoot!” she groaned, making Crowpaw jump. “This means I won’t be able to meet with Russetfur.”

“Russetfur?”

“She’s the ShadowClan deputy,” Nightcloud explained. Crowpaw was about to ask why such an important cat from another Clan would bother with a new warrior when Nightcloud added, “She isn’t Clanborn either. ShadowClan’s got a few cats that used to be rogues, actually.” She flicked her tail, “Not that I wish I’d joined ShadowClan instead! I love WindClan, and I know I belong here! But…” she lowered her ears, “It’s hard to feel like that sometimes.”

Crowpaw chewed that over with another bite of mouse. “Yeah. I guess so.” He swallowed the juicy meat. “But if you _were_ ShadowClan, you’d eat lizards and frogs.”

“Gross!” Nightcloud screwed up her muzzle.

“And you’d have to hunt only at night. Never in the day.”

“But I love warming my pelt in the sun!”

“ _And_ you wouldn’t get to sleep out under the stars. Even if you didn’t sleep in your den, the trees would block out the sky.”

“That’s so creepy.” Nightcloud shivered.

“Well, if you don’t like lizards and frogs, you like feeling sunlight on your fur, and you want to sleep where you can see Silverpelt, you’d better stay right here in WindClan. But if you like, I can let Russetfur know you were looking forward to seeing her, if she’ll even talk to an apprentice.”

“She will! She’s a lot nicer than you’d think. At least, she is at Gatherings,” Nightcloud purred. “Thanks, Crowpaw.”

“Don’t mention it,” Crowpaw said, more serious than he’d like to be. He was sure Mudclaw wouldn’t like him doing favors for a Clanmate who was being punished—and he was _dead_ sure Mudclaw would like him trying to seek out a ThunderClan warrior even less.

He picked up the remains of his mouse and left the den to bury it. It was a convenient excuse to think things over.

Was he really going to try to figure out the meaning of his dreams with Feathertail? What would happen if he found the tabby ThunderClan tom he saw in his dream at the Moonstone? Why would StarClan choose _him_ for this important… what? Message? _Mission_?

Feathertail seemed excited by the idea. He wished he could say the same.

He stomped down on the ground over the mouse remains to hide the thumping in his chest at the thought of seeing Feathertail again.

 

The full moon shone like a second sun over the moor. Crowpaw walked silently beside Ashfoot, whose fur held an odd silver sheen in the moonlight that made him think of StarClan. The thought disturbed him. He’d already lost his father and Eaglekit; he didn’t know how he would survive if he lost Ashfoot, too.

At the head of the patrol, Tallstar struggled to keep in the lead. Mudclaw kept edging ever so slightly ahead of him, slowing down when he realized he was a few pawsteps beyond Tallstar, only to end up in front again moments later. Eventually he circled around to the end of the patrol to help Whitetail, who hadn’t walked so far from camp in moons while she was in the nursery.

Soon Fourtrees came into view. Tallstar lifted his tail to halt the WindClan patrol, sniffing the air to see which Clans were already there. Crowpaw lifted his own muzzle, catching the woody musk of ThunderClan and the fishy smell of RiverClan. There was not a sniff of the sharp, pine-touched tang of ShadowClan.

Tallstar lowered his tail and the WindClan cats leapt into the clearing. Crowpaw was glad he wasn’t the only cat who seemed uncomfortable beneath the cover of the trees; Robinwing and Owlwhisker’s fur bristled for a moment, then went flat the next.

 While Tallstar clambered up the Great Rock to join Leopardstar and Firestar, the WindClan warriors mingled with the others.

Crowpaw looked around for Feathertail, spotting the silver tabby she-cat sitting with Mothwing and a dark gray tom. Kestrelpaw bounced toward them first and Crowpaw’s heart leapt into his throat, but thankfully the medicine cat apprentice led Mothwing away to talk with the other gathered healers, including Leafpaw and Mudfur. The gray tom, however, stayed right where he was.

Feathertail caught Crowpaw’s eye and waved him over with her tail. “Crowpaw! Over here!”

Ducking his head, Crowpaw left Ashfoot’s side and made his way over to Feathertail as stealthily as he could. She purred in greeting, “Hi, Crowpaw! This is my brother, Stormfur. I don’t think you’ve met?”

Crowpaw had seen the RiverClan warrior at a Gathering once, but they’d never spoken. They nodded stiffly in greeting to each other while Feathertail went on.

“Stormfur is going to help look for the tabby ThunderClan cat. I already know what the ShadowClan cat looks like, so once they arrive I’ll find her.”

“You told him about the dream?” Crowpaw asked, a note of betrayal creeping in despite himself. If the dream was real, then it was a special message from StarClan, meant only for the cats who received the dream! But Stormfur was Feathertail’s kin.

_If Eaglekit were still here, would I have told him?_

“It shouldn’t be hard.” Stormfur swiped a paw over his whiskers. “We can just ask Graystripe.”

Crowpaw glanced up at the ThunderClan deputy who sat at the base of the Great Rock, talking amicably with the RiverClan deputy. He seemed a friendly enough cat, and Stormfur looked so like him that Crowpaw couldn’t understand how he hadn’t realized their relation the first time he’d come to a Gathering.

Stormfur walked easily over to them, Crowpaw following just behind, and stood waiting for Graystripe to finish his conversation with the RiverClan deputy. He was not kept waiting long, and Graystripe brushed his cheek against Stormfur’s.

“Stormfur! How are the fish swimming?”

“As well as the squirrels are running, I hope,” Stormfur answered warmly with a purr. “I was actually looking for a ThunderClan cat, but I forgot what his name is. Big tabby, kind of dark fur?”

Crowpaw’s heart dropped into his paws. _Rabbit-brain! You can’t just_ ask _a Clan deputy a question like that without sounding suspicious!_

Graystripe blinked. “You don’t mean Brambleclaw?” Just as Crowpaw feared, he followed with, “What did you want with him? He’s not here tonight. Insisted on staying in camp to guard it—though, if you ask me, he just wanted a break from Squirrelpaw.” He nodded toward a flame-colored she-cat who was laughing loudly with a group of ThunderClan and RiverClan apprentices.

“That’s too bad,” Stormfur responded without hesitation. “I was hoping to meet him at Sunningrocks for a little sparring, if he was up to it. Things have been quiet for a while, and we need to keep our skills sharp in case rogue cats like BloodClan show up here again.”

Crowpaw stared, amazed that he managed to lie to a Clan deputy so easily.

Then, he realized, Stormfur might not be lying completely. RiverClan and ThunderClan cats were always getting into each other’s business. Even the RiverClan deputy was part ThunderClan, or so he’d heard. And with Stormfur being part-ThunderClan himself—why wouldn’t he be comfortable asking a rival warrior for a private training session?

Graystripe considered Stormfur’s words for a moment. “Well, if you’re sure you won’t get in trouble, I’ll pass the message along. But don’t be surprised if Brambleclaw turns you down! He’s a stickler for the code.”

 _I should tell Tallstar. If ThunderClan and RiverClan joined forces, it could be bad news for WindClan,_ Crowpaw thought.

“Who’s your friend?” Graystripe asked, turning his attention to Crowpaw.

“WindClan apprentice,” Stormfur answered. “Never really talked to him before. Trying to meet more cats at these meetings.”

“Crowpaw,” he answered, a little gruffly. He certainly didn’t want to get too friendly with this cat, though the approachable way Graystripe flicked his bushy tail in greeting made it clear where Feathertail got her personality from.

“Well met, Crowpaw,” Graystripe said. “Looking forward to your warrior ceremony soon, eh?”

“This should be my last Gathering as an apprentice.” Crowpaw lifted his chin. He was just a little taller than Graystripe, thanks to his long legs.

“Enjoy it!” Graystripe stretched, arching his back with a groan. “You only get to be young once.”

“It’s the elder’s den for you, then?” Stormfur teased, batting at his father’s shoulder.

“Watch it, or I’ll turn to dust before your eyes!” Graystripe laughed back, and the two started tussling like kits out of the nursery. Crowpaw turned away with a sniff. He’d never be able to follow orders from such a ridiculous deputy, or—he cast his gaze up at the Great Rock and the bright ginger tom who led ThunderClan—a former kittypet.

He got what he needed. He knew who the tabby tom in his dream probably was. But if he wasn’t at the Gathering, how was he going to get a message to him, assuming Feathertail wanted them to meet again?

Silently, more cats crept out of the shadows for which their Clan was named. ShadowClan arrived, and Blackstar leapt up onto the Great Rock without a moment’s hesitation to join Tallstar, Firestar, and Leopardstar.

Crowpaw looked around for Feathertail, whose eyes were locked on one ShadowClan cat like she was a particularly tasty rabbit. The she-cat was pretty, with a strong frame and gold-and-brown fur, but she wasn’t pretty in the same soft way Feathertail was.

“ _Tawnypelt_!” Feathertail called in greeting, elated to suddenly remember the she-cat’s name. “It’s been ages!”

The ShadowClan warrior was caught off-guard, obviously not expecting such a warm greeting from a cat she didn’t know well. “Er… yes, I suppose it has… Feather… stripe?”

“Feathertail,” the RiverClan she-cat corrected.

Crowpaw was surprised he could hear their conversation, until he realized his paws had brought him closer to them without his notice. Before he could say anything, Blackstar’s voice rang out from the Great Rock. “It is time to begin the meeting! ShadowClan will speak first.

“We have noticed more Twolegs than usual patrolling our territory. At the same time, we have been less able to find prey, and StarClan has sent a warning—to _all_ Clans—about poor prey in the Clans. I have spoken to my deputy and my medicine cat, and I believe…” he paused, making sure he had every cat’s attention, “… that Twolegs are stealing our prey!”

He glared down at the gathered cats, as if daring any of them to call his idea silly.

“A good theory, but I must disagree,” Tallstar said, “WindClan has not seen any more Twolegs than usual, and our prey has also been unusually scarce this season. But this gives me hope—if Twolegs truly were stealing our prey, I don’t see what we could do to stop them.”

“RiverClan hasn’t had any trouble stocking our fresh-kill pile,” Leopardstar sneered. “Perhaps your warriors are simply losing their skill at hopping after frogs.”

Blackstar spat, rounding on her. “It’s the Twolegs, I tell you!”

“ThunderClan sympathizes with ShadowClan and WindClan,” Firestar offered. “But we have not experienced any trouble with our hunting patrols either, and I cannot believe that Twolegs are responsible beyond scaring the prey off. Have you tried hunting more when the Twolegs aren’t out?”

Blackstar’s hackles began to rise, but he dropped the subject. “ShadowClan also has a new warrior to celebrate. Crowpaw—”

At this, Crowpaw’s ears pricked up and his heart skipped a beat.

“—has become Crowfrost.”

 _Now that’s a name!_ Crowpaw thought, scanning the crowd for the black-and-white tom that stood a little taller and enjoyed the celebratory mews of the cats around him. _It’ll be me next time!_

“If that’s all ShadowClan has to say,” Leopardstar shifted her tail, “RiverClan has news to share. Our young warrior, Mothwing, has decide to pursue the path of a medicine cat. She is to be allowed across borders on her way to Highstones from here on.” At this, she gave Mudclaw a pointed glare that he ignored. Mothwing must have told her leader about the trouble they had coming to and from Highstones. “Mosspelt has moved into the nursery. That is all.”

Crowpaw found Mothwing looking rather embarrassed some distance away. She was no longer with the other medicine cats, but was sitting next to a dark tabby warrior with similar facial markings to her.

Firestar spoke next. “ThunderClan is well. Our prey is running, and StarClan has blessed us with a den full of capable apprentices.” His eyes fell on a white she-cat with one blue and one yellow eye, and she groomed her chest fur. “I expect they’ll all be excellent warriors soon enough. In the meantime, Goldenflower has retired to the elder’s den to live out the rest of her seasons in peace. We honor her time as a warrior.”

A murmur of congratulations rippled through the Clan, though Goldenflower did not appear to be present.

Finally, it was time for WindClan’s report. Tallstar rose to his feet.

“WindClan has experienced the same difficulties as ShadowClan in finding prey this season,” he said, his voice firm. “However, we have found plenty to sustain ourselves, and have sharpened our hunting skills in doing so. But let this be a warning that our fighting skills are just as sharp, and we will not tolerate any trespassing—” _Did he look at Feathertail just then?_ “—or prey-stealing on our land. Those travelling to Highstones are advised to remain quiet while crossing WindClan territory. While there is no reason for stealth or fear of being attacked, our patrols still need quiet to hunt. In the future, I will demand retribution for prey lost due to noise from cats visiting Highstones.”

“Retribution?” Leopardstar snarled.

“Yes,” Tallstar met her evenly, “WindClan has long understood that it is necessary for Clans to cross our territory to reach Highstones, and we will not stop any cat from speaking to StarClan. But we are owed respect while cats are on our territory. I assume it is not too much to ask that cats remain quiet while crossing?”

“Of course not, Tallstar,” Firestar said.

“Then no Clan should have to worry about us seeking retribution,” Tallstar finished, staring directly into Leopardstar’s eyes until the she-cat relented.

 _Go, Tallstar!_ Crowpaw thought, but he noticed Feathertail and Mothwing looked guilty.

“If that’s all, then this Gathering is over,” Blackstar huffed, waiting a moment before springing down from the boulder.

Feathertail shook her head. “Tawnypelt, have you had any weird dreams lately?”

 _Is every RiverClan cat this direct!_ Crowpaw sighed inwardly.

Tawnypelt gave Feathertail an appraising look. “How…?”

“I saw you in a dream I had,” Feathertail spoke quickly, for the ShadowClan cats were gathering to leave. “You and Crowpaw, and he saw me and another cat—”

“Brambleclaw.”

“—Brambleclaw. And I’d bet Brambleclaw had the same dream, with a message from StarClan. I think we should meet to discuss it, don’t you?”

Tawnypelt stared at Feathertail as if she’d grown a second head. “What?”

“On the next no-moon, after dark!” Feathertail whispered. “Meet us here! You too, Crowpaw! I’ll have Stormfur tell Brambleclaw.”

 _So he was serious about the sparring?!_ Crowpaw nearly dropped his jaw open.

He thought Tawnypelt would reject the idea outright, but she twitched her whiskers and said, “I’ll think about it,” before darting off to join the rest of her Clanmates.

Feathertail turned her blue eyes on Crowpaw. They were even brighter in the light of the full moon. “You’ll come too, won’t you, Crowpaw? I know we didn’t have a chance to talk about when, but…”

“I’ll see,” Crowpaw replied, knowing he’d gladly accept a whole season of checking Wrenflight for ticks to be there.

As Feathertail’s silver pelt disappeared into the underbrush with the rest of the RiverClan cats, Crowpaw felt that the next no-moon night couldn’t come soon enough.

Only when he returned to WindClan and saw Nightcloud waiting up did he realize he hadn’t had a chance to talk to Russetfur.


	9. Starlight Chapter Seven

_Chapter Seven_

The day of the no-moon dragged on so long that Crowpaw wondered if the sun would ever set.

He couldn’t sleep, his pelt crawling with anticipation and—as he discovered after dawn—ants. He’d somehow managed to flop down to sleep next to an anthill after a long day of hunting and training, leaving him to spend the morning in the medicine den getting the bugs picked out of his dark gray fur by Kestrelpaw.

“So this is what it’s like to check Wrenflight for ticks,” Kestrelpaw joked as he groomed an ant from between Crowpaw’s shoulders and slathered the bite with ointment to stop it from itching.

“If you really want it to be like that, I can complain,” Crowpaw said. “When I was a warrior, we knew how to do things right! We’d never let ants into our camp! What is WindClan coming to?”

“It _is_ a little odd,” Kestrelpaw admitted. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard of an ant hill in the camp before.”

“It was a joke, Kestrelpaw,” Crowpaw groaned.

“Still, I’d like to—”

Mudclaw stuck his nose into the medicine den. “Are you ready for patrol yet, Crowpaw? What are you doing in there, anyway?”

“Ant bites,” Crowpaw said, his fur heating under the deputy’s gaze. “I slept next to a nest.”

He expected Mudclaw to sniff and tell him to pay better attention to his surroundings next time, but instead he narrowed his eyes and asked, “Where were you sleeping? There isn’t any anthill in camp.”

Kestrelpaw swiped the last of the ants out of Crowpaw’s fur and they both emerged into the camp, where Crowpaw trotted to where he’d woken up. There wasn’t an anthill in sight—nor any other bugs, for that matter. Crowpaw sniffed the area carefully, but he only caught his own scent.

Mudclaw didn’t wait for an explanation. “Apprentices and their dreams! Hurry up, now. We’ve kept Weaselfur and Onewhisker waiting long enough.” Mudclaw kept muttering as he approached the waiting patrol. “I’d swear, sometimes it’s like you don’t _want_ to be a warrior!”

The morning patrol was long and slow. It was already hot, and Crowpaw spent most of the patrol wishing they were checking the RiverClan border. At least there he could dip his paws into the gorge and get a drink of water, and maybe catch a glimpse of Feathertail to see if she really intended to be at Fourtrees that night. Not that he had any reason to doubt her.

Most of the prey had already taken shelter from the heat, and only Onewhisker managed to catch a half-dehydrated rabbit that was so dazed it ran in a circle. Crowpaw nearly caught a chaffinch, but it barely managed to evade him, leaving behind only a feather in his claws.

Guiltily, his first thought was the bring the feather to the meeting as a gift for Feathertail, but he chased that thought away when Mudclaw huffed, “Rabbitkit and Harekit are too old for feathers in their nests, but Morningflower might like it.”

They returned to camp and dropped the rabbit on the empty fresh-kill pile. Every cat was tense, their faces gaunt. Tornear had already taken Wrenflight to the border for water, and they had not returned.

Before sunhigh, Tallstar called a Clan meeting. At first excitement prickled in Crowpaw’s nose, wondering if it was finally time for his ceremony, but Tallstar’s tired expression dashed his hopes.

“It is too hot to remain in camp,” Tallstar said. “We are too far from water here, and the health of our cats may begin to suffer if we stay here. Just until the heatwave passes, we will relocate to the gorge, where it is cooler and there is more shade to rest in. We may have better hunting there as well.”

“Leave camp?” Rushtail gaped.

“Over a little _heat_?” Weaselfur added with derision.

“If cats could fight the sun, I’m sure WindClan would stand a better chance than most,” Tallstar said. Weaselfur chewed on one of his paws and gave it a lick, pretending his leader’s gaze didn’t rake over his fur. “We leave immediately.”

“What about our herbs?” Barkface asked.

“We should have no need of them,” Tallstar said. “We are not abandoning camp for more than a day or two. If you have anything that will help with thirst, bring it. Otherwise, leave them where they are.”

Barkface and Kestrelpaw exchanged a look, obviously loathe to be without their precious healing plants, but Tallstar was right. There wasn’t going to be a battle, so long as they stayed off RiverClan’s land, and there wasn’t going to be a Gathering for a while so no cat would bother them if they took up a bit of space at Fourtrees.

Except for Feathertail and the other cats who shared Crowpaw’s dream.

Worry ate at Crowpaw for the rest of the day, and it didn’t get any better when Barkface told Mudclaw not to train with him for the rest of the day thanks to him seeing ants that weren’t there. The deputy stalked off angrily and called for Owlwhisker and Ashfoot to hunt with him. At least they had better luck with their catch than the morning patrol, but Crowpaw could hardly nibble at Ashfoot’s rabbit, his stomach curling.

He left the temporary camp to retch and lapped up water to hide the sour stench on his breath. The last thing he needed was the medicine cats making a fuss over him when he was supposed to sneak away that night to meet with Feathertail… and the others, of course.

Staying in the temporary camp and pretending to be fine was harder than it sounded. Nightcloud kept wanting to chat. Kestrelpaw kept fretting over whether or not they should have brought this or that herb. Rabbitkit and Harekit thought this was all a grand adventure and excitedly chattered about how they were out of camp _before_ they were apprentices while Whitetail tried to keep track of them as they got under every cats’ paws.

The day dragged on. Then the sunset dragged on. Most of WindClan was back together when the sun was on the horizon, curling up together to sleep through the night. Gorsetail stayed up to guard them through the night, much to Crowpaw’s relief; Gorsetail could see a mouse twitch its whiskers from across the moor, but when it came to scents a mouse might as well be a hawk for all she could tell.

Crowpaw slipped out of his, Nightcloud, and Kestrelpaw’s nest, slinking away into the dark shadows of the trees. At least he didn’t have far to go to get to Fourtrees.

Feathertail was already there, practically bouncing across the clearing as she waited. Crowpaw suppressed a purr. “I’m here.”

“I knew you’d make it!” Feathertail chirped in greeting. “I met Brambleclaw on a patrol, and he promised he’d be here too. I hope Tawnypelt can come. We all need to be here!”

Crowpaw couldn’t help but notice that Feathertail’s brother wasn’t present. It was just the two of them, alone together.

Feathertail raced across to the spot where she’d stood in her dream. “Maybe we need to stand in the same places?”

“Maybe.” Crowpaw wouldn’t have remembered where he stood if she didn’t go to where she’d been, but he remembered where he’d seen her from and sat there. _It’s a little far_. How were they going to talk if they were all at different corners of their meeting place?

 _Maybe the dream just meant that we’ll lead our Clans one day,_ Crowpaw thought as he looked up at the Great Rock. Crowstar—now that would be something! But he wasn’t sure he could imagine Feathertail as Featherstar, leader of RiverClan. She was a great cat, but he didn’t think she would be hard enough on her Clan’s rivals.

Tawnypelt was the next to arrive, looking at them quizzically until settling down on the other side of the Great Rock from Crowpaw at Feathertail’s silent prompting. She didn’t seem eager to talk, and being ShadowClan, she probably had a harder time sneaking out at night—when her Clan was active—than they did.

The longer he sat there, the more energy he felt thrumming through his paws, until he felt charged from nose to tail. Though there was no moon to shine overhead, the Gathering place seemed brighter than usual, like all the warriors of StarClan were looking down on them with approval. This was it. He was going to learn the meaning of his dreams, and maybe set off on a grand adventure with Feathertail at his side. For the moment, waiting to get his warrior name and any other dreams he had of his future in WindClan were far away and unimportant in comparison to what was happening at that moment.

Then Brambleclaw’s brown tabby pelt pushed through the bracken.

“About time,” Tawnypelt said.

The bushes continued to rustle even after Brambleclaw was free. Crowpaw’s fur spiked up as another cat—a distinctly bright ginger tom—emerged from the undergrowth.

“ _Firestar_?” Tawnypelt gaped. “You brought _Firestar_?”

“As well he should have,” Firestar said. “I won’t question why you’ve all decided to meet. I trust you are as loyal to your Clans as Brambleclaw. But if StarClan has a message, it should be shared with your Clan leaders before you do anything.”

“You told him!” Tawnypelt walked stiffly up to Brambleclaw. “Do you ask him when you can go to the dirtplace, too?”

Brambleclaw didn’t back down. “It was the right thing to do.”

Crowpaw’s heart pounded in his chest. Should he run? Had Firestar seen him yet? Would he tell Tallstar? They were breaking the warrior code by meeting without their leaders’ approval!

Feathertail was, amazingly, unbothered. “StarClan gave _us_ the message,” she said. “We want to be the ones to figure it out.”

Firestar twitched his whiskers at her. “I will not tell Leopardstar what you dreamed, but I would advise you to. Prophecies rarely reveal their meaning to warriors acting alone.”

Tawynpelt aimed a final hiss at the ThunderClan cats and streaked into the forest, heading back toward ShadowClan. Feathertail briefly called after her, then shook her head at Brambleclaw before following suit and returning to RiverClan.

Crowpaw said nothing, racing away to WindClan as quickly as he could. He was stupid. This whole thing was stupid. Firestar was right; he ought to just tell Barkface and Tallstar about his dream and be done with it.

But for a moment, he’d been excited—truly excited—about the idea that he might be special enough to be chosen for a greater destiny than that.


	10. Starlight Chapter Eight

_Chapter Eight_

Crowpaw waited patiently outside Tallstar’s makeshift den for his leader to return. He had left early that morning to check on the state of WindClan’s camp and make sure no other animals tried to move in while they were gone. Foxes roamed the moors, and it would not be in WindClan’s best interest if one of them decided to settle in the abandoned camp.

 _He would be gone the morning I really need to talk to him,_ Crowpaw thought. He’d narrowly avoided going out on patrol with Mudclaw, Weaselfur, and Beechfur, volunteering to watch Harekit and Rabbitkit instead. The kits were more restless than ever, and more than Whitetail could manage anymore. With Morningflower so close to her kitting, the she-cats needed a break from the antics of kits who ought to be apprentices anyway.

Thankfully Onewhisker stepped in to relieve Crowpaw after Harekit attacked his tail with too much vigor.

“I’m hoping to get Harekit as an apprentice,” Onewhisker whispered to him. “I’ve really missed being a mentor, since Gorsepaw…”

He didn’t finish. Hardly anyone dared mention Morningflower’s dead son when there was any risk of her overhearing. The she-cat had been through so much over the seasons, first losing her mate when Brokenstar drove out WindClan, then losing their son when Tigerstar came to power. Crowpaw—and the rest of WindClan—could only hope her new litter with Tornear helped her find some happiness again.

 _The other Clans have always meant trouble for WindClan,_ Crowpaw thought as he headed to the river for a drink. The days were still treacherously hot, and the prey worryingly scarce.

“ _Crowpaw… Crowpaw_!”

Crowpaw crouched down beside the edge of the gorge to get a better look at the silver she-cat in the bushes on the other side. “This happens too often.”

“Why is WindClan camped on our border?” Feathertail asked, her voice oddly demanding. When Crowpaw saw the glint in her eye, he realized she was only trying to pass herself off as a concerned enemy warrior in case anyone saw them talking.

“That’s WindClan’s business!” he responded, trying to keep the amusement out of his mew. “Don’t worry, we don’t want any of your slimy fish.”

“I’d like to see you try to catch one!” He was sure that she was being sincere in that, at least. Quieter, she asked, “I still want to find out what our dreams meant. I’m going to Fourtrees again tonight. I have a  _feeling_ about it. Will you be there?”

“If I can,” Crowpaw said. Would Brambleclaw bring Firestar again? Would Feathertail even invite him? He wouldn’t mind talking about their dreams together, just the two of them.

“Great!” Feathertail purred with a wave of her plumy tail, the last thing Crowpaw saw as she disappeared into RiverClan territory again.

Crowpaw’s chest felt light. He could wait to tell Tallstar about his dream—at least until he had a better idea of what it could mean.

Pawsteps thundered into his ears and his hackles rose. Those weren’t made by the light feet of WindClan cats.

“Invasion!” Nightcloud called from her place at the edge of the camp.

“ThunderClan!” Oatwhisker added.

Onewhisker helped Whitetail bundle Harekit, Rabbitkit, Morningflower, and Wrenflight into the makeshift nursery, which the two of them stood ready to defend. Crowpaw only just caught poor Wrenflight’s confused cry of, “Is it ShadowClan? Have we been driven out?”

Crowpaw joined Nightcloud, Oatwhisker, Robinwing, and Ashfoot at the front line to meet the ThunderClan invaders. Though the rest of WindClan stood at their backs to jump into the fight if needed, they didn’t want to reveal that their whole Clan had been displaced. Even their current group was too big to be a normal border patrol, but they had to hope ThunderClan wouldn’t notice.

Crowpaw recognized Brambleclaw in the patrol. He was joined by a dusty brown tom and a bouncy ginger apprentice.

“What is the meaning of this?” Ashfoot demanded with a growl.

At least the dusty brown tom had the sense to look concerned about the WindClan warriors before him, unlike the she-cat at his side who answered brightly, “We’re here to see Tallstar!”

“Tallstar has better things to do than talk to a lost ThunderClan patrol,” Oatwhisker retorted. “Wait for the Gathering.”

“It can’t wait, according to Firestar,” the brown tom said. “He’s sent out patrols to ask every Clan leader to meet with him at Fourtrees. Tonight.”

 _Oh, no!_ Crowpaw thought. Would Feathertail hear about the leaders’ meeting in time to avoid going, or would she go anyway? Was this a sign that they  _should_ meet? Or maybe RiverClan already got the news, and she was coming to tell him he ought to be there.

His dark pelt would blend in well with the shadows. And he had no doubt this was because Brambleclaw told Firestar about his dream. Why shouldn’t Crowpaw get to be a part of the discussion, even if he only listened in?

“We’ll pass the message along,” Ashfoot said, “But we make no promises. Now get off our territory.”

Without even so much as dipping his head in respect, the brown tom bounded off, his apprentice trailing behind. Brambleclaw lingered to nod to the patrol before following after his Clanmates.

Nightcloud rolled her eyes to Crowpaw. “ _ThunderClan_!”

“Yeah, ThunderClan,” Crowpaw replied distantly. Should he tell Tallstar about his dream now, so he didn’t go to the meeting unprepared? Or would hearing that the important thing Firestar wanted to talk about was probably an apprentice’s dream make him back out of the meeting? Then again, Crowpaw couldn’t imagine Leopardstar or Blackstar meeting with ThunderClan’s busybody leader. Tallstar being the only one to show up and talk could give them an alliance.

 _Not that an alliance with ThunderClan is anything but trouble,_ Crowpaw thought.

“Crowpaw?” Nightcloud mewed.

“Let’s go hunting,” Crowpaw suggested. He needed to clear his head.

 

At least Mudclaw couldn’t complain of his hunting that day; Crowpaw laid a rabbit out beside the nursery and Nightcloud added two quails, one caught by each of them. An older rabbit and a grouse sat there too; Mudclaw’s patrol had been successful as well.

Not that it helped Mudclaw’s temper any.

“Why should WindClan care what ThunderClan wants?” Mudclaw’s hiss echoed across the temporary camp, “Our cats have enough problems to deal with already.”

Tallstar met his anger with a reasonable mew. “The past seasons have proven Firestar is a cat worth listening to. WindClan will not indebt itself to ThunderClan if that is what he proposes, but it is better to hear what he has to say than ignore the summons of a strong Clan.”

“Are you saying WindClan isn’t a strong Clan?” Mudclaw growled.

“The heat has gotten to your head if you think that,” Tallstar snapped. “You will guard this camp while I meet with Firestar tonight. This isn’t a Gathering, and I do not require the presence, or  _permission_ , of my deputy to attend.” Tallstar lashed his long tail, the matter finished.

Crowpaw hid under a bush as Mudclaw passed, certain he’d be swept up for some kind of apprentice duty if his mentor caught him. He had to talk to Tallstar, and he couldn’t risk Mudclaw getting in the way.

“I know you’re there, Crowpaw,” Tallstar said, settling onto the ground with a yawn. “Be brief.”

“It’s about the meeting with Firestar,” Crowpaw said, trying to figure out the fastest way to say it. “I think it’s about a dream I had—a dream from StarClan. One cat from each Clan had the same dream, and Brambleclaw, the cat from ThunderClan, told Firestar about it.”

“I see.” Tallstar regarded him. “And when were you going to tell me about this dream?”

“I wasn’t, at first. I thought… I’m just a warrior apprentice,” Crowpaw admitted. “But now it seems more important. In the dream, Deadfoot came to me. He gave me a message.” At first Crowpaw had worried he would forget his father’s message, but the words came to him immediately, “Over stone and water, toward the setting sun… No Clan will survive unless all are one.”

Tallstar considered his words for a moment before nodding. “I see,” he said again, and folded his forelegs under him. “Firestar may be trying to reform LionClan. But until the danger presents itself, I don’t see the need to rush into that. And there’s the first part of the prophecy to consider.”

Crowpaw felt as if leafbare came early.  _Prophecy_. Yes, it was a prophecy. His prophecy. His destiny.

“You and Barkface will come with me to the meeting tonight. Eat, rest, and stay close to the Clan,” Tallstar said, “ _That_  ought to please Mudclaw.”

Crowpaw blinked in surprise. He assumed Tallstar trusted his deputy completely, and that they got along, but he almost sounded like he would have brought Crowpaw to the meeting just to spite the other tom.


	11. Starlight Chapter Nine

_Chapter Nine_

Crowpaw felt like a kit standing between Tallstar and Barkface, two of the oldest cats in all the Clans.

Tallstar and Firestar greeted each other warmly, but fell into a long, awkward silence while they waited for RiverClan and ShadowClan to arrive—if they were coming at all. Firestar had brought Brambleclaw and Leafpaw with him; apparently Cinderpelt had more important things to do than discuss a prophecy with the other Clans.

Feathertail soon appeared, followed swiftly by Leopardstar, who lifted her chin as she passed Feathertail. The silver tabby sheepishly let herself fall behind Mudfur, her fur puffing up in embarrassment.

“So, a few warriors have a dream, and it’s enough to concern all the Clans?” Leopardstar growled.

“If you didn’t believe it was important, you wouldn’t have come,” Firestar pointed out. “Our medicine cats have all had visions of danger, and now our warriors are sharing dreams from StarClan. We can’t ignore that. But we must wait for ShadowClan.”

“I don’t intend to be out all night,” Leopardstar huffed.

“You won’t be,” Blackstar’s voice grumbled as he appeared from the shadows. Tawnypelt and Russetfur flanked him. Crowpaw guessed the ShadowClan leader didn’t see fit to bring a medicine cat with him. “Let’s get on with it, then. What are we going to do about this prophecy?”

“That’s precisely what we need to figure out,” Firestar said. “I think—”

“Oh, it’s always about what ThunderClan thinks, isn’t it?” Leopardstar snapped. “ _I_ think RiverClan can take care of ourselves. One bad season of hunting is no cause for alarm.”

“Then you admit hunting is poor in your territory?” Tallstar prodded.

Leopardstar hissed, and Blackstar shouted, “It’s the Twolegs, I say!”

Feathertail crept away from behind Mudfur so quietly that Crowpaw hardly noticed until she was at his shoulder. “This isn’t what I meant when I said I wanted to talk to you tonight,” she whispered.

“Brambleclaw’s left us no choice,” Crowpaw groaned.

“If StarClan has a message for us, they can very well come down here and explain it,” Leopardstar said. She leapt onto the Great Rock and looked up at the bright sky overhead. “Well, Stonefur? What have you got to say?”

“How dare you!” Of all cats, Firestar had unsheathed his claws. “You were the one who let Stonefur die! You betrayed your own deputy!”

Leopardstar turned on Firestar, her own claws sliding out against the rock. “ _Blackstar_ is the one who killed him, but StarClan seems to have had no trouble giving him nine lives!”

“What happened at my nine lives ceremony is between me and StarClan!” Blackstar snarled.

Leopardstar didn’t hear him. “And you shouldn’t know about what happened that day, Firestar—unless you were spying. And ThunderClan  _does_ have spies everywhere, doesn’t it?”

Feathertail was rigid beside Crowpaw, and he realized Leopardstar’s wild gaze was searching for her. Crowpaw knew Feathertail was friendly with cats in other Clans, but he had no doubt she loved RiverClan. Was her leader really questioning her loyalty in front of the others?

“Calm down, everyone,” Tallstar said, “And Leopardstar, come down from there. We are meant to meet as equals to discuss the prophecy. If Stonefur gave the message to Feathertail, it must be because he trusts her to represent RiverClan.” He paused as hackles lowered and claws were sheathed. “That is what makes the most sense to me—that one warrior was chosen from each Clan to represent them in the prophecy.”

“But why these young warriors?” Blackstar asked. “I would trust Tawnypelt with my last life, but why would StarClan choose them over a medicine cat, or a Clan leader?”

“Perhaps because the Clans will have need of their leaders and medicine cats at home,” Tallstar said.

“At home! You sound like you’re suggesting these cats  _leave_ the Clan territories!” Leopardstar gaped.

“That’s exactly what I’m saying,” Tallstar mewed after a quiet moment.

Crowpaw’s feet froze to the ground.  _Leave_ WindClan? When he was so close to becoming a warrior?

“I won’t send my cats out there,” Blackstar replied. “I won’t deny that I spent time as a rogue. I followed Brokenstar into exile and it was the  _worst_ decision I ever made. Tawnypelt, out there in rot and ruin without her Clan? I’d rather bite my own tail off than see the day!”

“No ShadowClan cat would ever leave her Clan behind. We follow the warrior code!” Russetfur added.

“I… I have to agree.” Firestar lowered his ears. “Tallstar, you know what it’s like out there. I couldn’t send Brambleclaw alone. It would be his death!”

Tallstar nodded and turned to Leopardstar. “And you?”

“I’m the only cat here who’s never journeyed beyond the Clans,” she said it with an air of superiority, “So I can’t say that I know what lays beyond. But if it’s as dangerous as you say, no RiverClan cat is going by herself.”

“But the prophecy!” Leafpaw squeaked. “ _Over stone and water, toward the setting sun_ …!”

“And does your medicine cat  _apprentice_ know more about this than we do, Firestar?” Leopardstar challenged. “Like what our cats are meant to  _do_ when they get there? Or  _why_ they need to risk their lives to do it?” Leopardstar sniffed. “I should expect as much from a half-Clan—”

“My daughter is not  _half-Clan_!” Firestar roared.

“Half-ThunderClan, half  _kittypet_ ,” Leopardstar spat. “This meeting is over!”

Leafpaw’s eyes went wide as Firestar lunged at Leopardstar. She was ready, rearing on her hind legs to catch him. The two rolled across the clearing, hissing and spitting, until Leopardstar threw Firestar clear. He bled where her back claws had caught against his belly, and she was sporting a new nick in her ear and a bleeding bite on her foreleg.

Crowpaw crouched, ready to join the fray as Feathertail rushed to help her leader, Brambleclaw’s burly shape beside Firestar in an instant. Tallstar stilled him with a sweep of his long tail as Firestar and Leopardstar backed away from each other, eyes still burning. Feathertail looked sadly at Brambleclaw, but the ThunderClan tom’s face was hard as stone.

At least that put to rest any suspicion Crowpaw had about an alliance between their two Clans.

Mudfur put himself between Leopardstar and Firestar, giving her injuries a brief sniff. Leafpaw still hadn’t moved.

Tallstar stood then, gesturing for Barkface and Crowpaw to follow him away.

“Tomorrow you will be a warrior, Crowpaw,” Tallstar said once they were beyond Fourtrees, “And you will go on the journey StarClan has set before you.”

The joy of hearing that he would soon be a warrior was crushed under the idea of having to leave his Clanmates behind to go off into StarClan-only-knew-where. Over stone and water? Toward the setting sun? Did the first part mean RiverClan—the stepping stones, or Sunningrocks? But that wasn’t toward the setting sun.

“May I have some time to think?” Crowpaw asked.

Tallstar regarded him with sorrowful eyes. “Go, but do not leave us without saying goodbye.”

Crowpaw lowered his head and let Tallstar and Barkface outpace him on their way back to the temporary camp.

Under the cover of night and the watchful eyes of StarClan, the moor was more beautiful than Crowpaw had ever seen. He trotted along, stopping to sniff every gorse bush and heather blossom. He truly felt the ground under his paws, the tickle of the tall grass under his belly. He breathed deep the fresh air and felt the wind in his fur.

_WindClan. Home._

How could he leave it behind?

But he knew Tallstar wouldn’t ask unless he was certain of the prophecy. WindClan had been driven out before, and because of that, Crowpaw knew he could survive beyond the Clans.

Rustling in a nearby gorse bush caught his attention.

“Who’s there?” he whispered, and was unsurprised to see Feathertail’s blue eyes shining in the dark.

Shining too much.

“Feathertail?” Crowpaw asked, and she pushed her whole face into his shoulder hard enough to nearly knock him off his paws.

“Crowpaw!” she exclaimed, “I’m so glad I found you.”

“Shouldn’t you be in RiverClan?” Crowpaw asked. “You can’t just—”

“I’m leaving,” Feathertail said, “Tonight.”

“ _Tonight_?” Crowpaw gasped.

“You heard Leopardstar.” Feathertail lifted her chin. Her paws—daintier than Crowpaw first thought for a cat her size—dug into the ground. “Even after everything that happened with Stonefur, even after making Mistyfoot deputy and training me and Stormfur, Leopardstar will never admit there’s nothing wrong with being half-Clan. She still doubts our loyalty in front of the other Clans and makes a big show of it, like she needs to prove it to them that she doesn’t  _really_ value us as warriors. Well, I’m sick of it!” Her tail brushed against the gorse noisily. “I’m going on StarClan’s journey.”

“But Leopardstar said—”

“No  _RiverClan_ cat is going on the journey  _by herself_ ,” Feathertail quoted. “Well, I’m half-ThunderClan, which doesn’t make me a RiverClan cat in Leopardstar’s eyes. And I’m not going by myself.” Her round gaze met Crowpaw’s eyes. “Am I?”

“No,” Crowpaw breathed. “No. You’ll never go anywhere alone if I can help it. But…” His ceremony. All he’d worked for. “Can you wait until tomorrow? We’ll meet at Highstones. No cat can stop us from going there.”

“I…” Feathertail shook her head, “I don’t know if I can wait that long. We’ve already wasted so much time. Can’t you tell that things are getting worse?” She sighed. “There’s hardly any fish left in the river. Cats have been getting sick in Greenleaf. If we don’t go  _now_ , it might be too late.” She brushed her cheek against his. “Come with me to Highstones tonight. We’ll wait until morning to see if the others come—but at first light, we have to go.”

“You don’t know where you’re going,” Crowpaw rationalized. “There could be foxes out there. Dogs. Badgers. Monsters. Thing we don’t even know about. And by ourselves, what chance would we stand? How will we even know when we’ve gotten there?”

They were all good reasons to wait, to stay behind, but Crowpaw knew in his heart that none of them mattered.

“StarClan will guide us,” Feathertail said.

 _And I’ll go anywhere with you,_ Crowpaw thought.

“Okay,” he said. “Okay. To Highstones, then.”

Feathertail purred, and Crowpaw purred back, brushing his cheek down the whole length of her neck and shoulder, relaxing in the thickness of her fur. What was it about this she-cat that could fill up his heart where the thought of leaving his beloved Clan left such a hole?

 _We’ll be a new Clan,_ he thought, and he knew it was the length of the day getting to him.  _Wind and River together—RainClan?_

“You aren’t going anywhere.”

Crowpaw jerked away from Feathertail at the deep growl and turned to face Mudclaw.


	12. Starlight Chapter Ten [Final]

_Chapter Ten_

Mudclaw unsheathed his claws, his hackles rising with the growl in his throat.

“I can’t believe…” he snarled, “My own  _apprentice_ , a traitor!”

Feathertail flexed her own claws, her tail raising to make her look bigger. “Crowpaw is no traitor. He’s on a mission from StarClan, as am I!”

Mudclaw ignored her, his fierce gaze fixed on Crowpaw. The dark gray tom thought his heart would be beating like a trapped finch in his chest at being caught like this by the moody deputy, but it wasn’t. He felt calmer than he had in moons, and sure of the path set before him.

“Go, Feathertail,” he said, “Wait for me where we said.”

“You’re sure?” she asked, but one look at him answered her question. She bounded up the moor, and Crowpaw fought the urge to watch her go.

“So,” Mudclaw growled.

“So,” Crowpaw returned, his claws ready.

Fighting Mudclaw was foolish. His mentor was bigger, stronger, more experienced than him. He had literally taught Crowpaw everything he knew.

The wind kicked up and whipped around them. Dust rose and settled between them. Crowpaw breathed it in, felt it in his fur and his heart.

He was the cat StarClan had chosen to represent WindClan.

He would win this fight.

With a mighty cry, Mudclaw flung himself at Crowpaw. Crowpaw dropped down, ready to swipe up at Mudclaw’s belly, but the deputy was too fast. He landed hard on Crowpaw’s back, driving the apprentice into the ground and digging his hind claws into his shoulders.

Crowpaw yowled, his fur tearing out as he tried to turn and throw Mudclaw off. He unbalanced the bigger tom, but he landed ready to fight, aiming a flurry of blows at Crowpaw’s face and ears. Crowpaw again went low, dropping his forelegs and lunging up to dig his claws into Mudclaw’s chest and shove him back.

They stood, grappling, on their hind legs. Crowpaw’s long tail let him keep his balance better, and when Mudclaw faltered he twisted, sending Mudclaw onto his back. Crowpaw dove, pinning Mudclaw to the ground by his shoulders and raking his hind claws over Mudclaw’s belly.

He wasn’t big enough to hold Mudclaw down and was kicked away, a scratch left on his hind leg. With a sharp blow, a clean cut was left in Crowpaw’s right ear.

Mudclaw backed up then, waiting for Crowpaw to make a move, but he didn’t know what move to make. Anything he did, Mudclaw would be ready for. This was the cat who had survived Brokenstar, survived Tigerstar, survived BloodClan. What chance did Crowpaw stand?

 _StarClan believes in me,_ he thought.  _Feathertail believes in me!_

Hissing, Crowpaw lunged at Mudclaw.

Mudclaw expected him, reared up to catch him the same way Leopardstar had caught Firestar—

Only for Crowpaw to cut his leap short, landing right in front of Mudclaw’s exposed chest and belly.

Crowpaw saw his opening. If he wanted, he could rake his claws up and leave a gash from Mudclaw’s belly to his chest. He could defeat the deputy once and for all.

But Mudclaw was his Clanmate. He couldn’t bring himself to do it.

Mustering all his strength, Crowpaw rammed his head into Mudclaw’s belly, knocking him away. He tumbled across the moor, his claws digging into the ground to slow himself.

“If you’re done,” Crowpaw snapped, “I have somewhere to be.”

They stood still for a moment, facing each other while Mudclaw regained his breath. Crowpaw waited until the brown tom started away toward their Clan to turn his back.

He should have waited longer.

Before Crowpaw knew what was happening, sharp claws dug into his shoulders and back and forced him to the ground. Mudclaw’s hot breath was in his ear as he growled, “I will  _not_ … be defeated… by the likes of  _you_.”

“Then what about the likes of  _me_!” shouted a blur of pale tortoiseshell fur that pummeled into Mudclaw’s side and knocked him off of Crowpaw. Before Mudclaw could get up and react, Tawnypelt struck a blow across his muzzle that was sure to leave him reeling.

“Let’s go, Crowpaw!” she said, nudging him to his feet. “Go,  _go_!”

“Is he going to be okay?” said another voice, and Crowpaw almost stopped to stare at the ginger she-cat running at Tawnypelt’s heel.

“Don’t care,” Tawnypelt replied, skirting around a gorse bush.

Crowpaw’s body felt as light as air as he raced across the moor with them, still trying to make sense of what just happened. Tawnypelt had come to his rescue, but why? And why was the ginger ThunderClan apprentice with her?

They could stop and discuss it when they got to Highstones.

 _To Feathertail_.

Crowpaw could have grown wings and flown there.

 _Crowflight would be a good warrior name,_ he thought absently, and wondered if he might be more injured than he thought.

He didn’t completely remember getting to Highstones. He would never forget collapsing under the intensity of Feathertail licking his wounds until the blood was groomed from his pelt.

“I managed to convince Blackstar to change his mind,” Tawnypelt explained to Feathertail. “After I saw you run off, I figured you’d probably get going right away, and Highstones seemed like the most likely place to start. I  _tried_ to get Brambleclaw to come too, but—”

“Brambleclaw should be called Bramblemud, because he’s like a bramble sticking out of the mud,” the ginger apprentice laughed. “Leafpaw told me all about the prophecy, and when I heard Tawnypelt trying to get Brambleclaw to go, I thought, well, the prophecy still needs a ThunderClan cat! So here I am.” She turned in an excited circle. “I’m Squirrelpaw, by the way! Firestar and Sandstorm are my parents. Heroism runs in my blood!”

“I could tell Firestar was your father from your fur,” Tawnypelt teased, settling against the stone. “You guys try and get some sleep. Being up this time of night is normal for ShadowClan, so I’ll take first watch.”

Crowpaw was glad to have some cat in charge, even if Tawnypelt was a ShadowClan cat. He settled where he lay, and Feathertail curled up beside him, licking his nicked ear until he fell asleep.

 

When dawn broke, their number was two greater than Crowpaw remembered when he went to sleep.

Brambleclaw’s fur was actually ruffled as he stood over Squirrelpaw, trying to drag her back toward ThunderClan by her fluffy tail.

“Get  _off_!” Squirrelpaw hissed.

“You—are—an—apprentice!” Brambleclaw grunted.

“So’s Crowpaw!”

 _Crowpaw._ He’d have to live with that name for a while longer. Maybe forever when Mudclaw revealed what he’d done, fighting his own deputy and running away with a RiverClan she-cat.

Would Tallstar understand? Probably. But would the rest of WindClan?

“Leave her alone, Brambleclaw,” Tawnypelt said. “Some ThunderClan cat has got to go. It might as well be one who can take three steps without asking permission from Firestar.”

“It’s called being a loyal warrior,” Brambleclaw said. “Your leader might have okayed this, but Firestar didn’t. We’re going home, Squirrelpaw.”

“No  _we_ aren’t,” Squirrelpaw said. “Come  _on,_ Brambleclaw! This is a once in a lifetime adventure, and you want to waste it by watching moss grow at home?” She charged up the slope of Highstones until the dawn light was touching her pelt, making her look like the glowing embers her father was named for. “You were chosen by StarClan! What more can a loyal warrior do but follow them?”

“The warrior code says—”

“Funny,” Tawnypelt cut in innocently, “I seem to recall a certain great leader of ThunderClan going against the word of his leader and the warrior code to do what he knew was right. A lot of good cats have him to thank for their lives because he was willing to bend the rules.”

Brambleclaw growled, but he clearly knew he was outnumbered.

“Fine. But I won’t have you running off on your own before you’ve even been assessed,” Brambleclaw said to Squirrelpaw. “I’ll come too, if only because the others would probably leave you behind after a day.”

“Leave  _me_ behind? Who would ever?” Squirrelpaw chirped, running in a circle around him.

 _Was I ever that energetic?_ Crowpaw wondered.

The other cat who had joined their ranks in the night was having a much quieter conversation with Feathertail, the two littermates speaking with their heads bowed close.

“… I was so afraid when I couldn’t find you,” Stormfur murmured. “How could you leave me like that?”

“I’m sorry, Stormfur, but this is important.” Feathertail twined her tail with his. “I’m glad to have you beside me again, but I understand if you can’t leave RiverClan. They’re going to need strong warriors to face whatever’s coming.”

“So are you. If it’s alright, I want to come with you on this journey.”

“I’d be happy to have you.”

Crowpaw slowly got to his feet. He was sore all over, but none of his wounds were still bleeding.

“He lives,” Tawnypelt mewed in approval. “Ready for this?”

The sun lit the stone beneath his paws as if to say,  _It’s time._

Crowpaw nodded.

“Then what are we waiting for?” Squirrelpaw exclaimed, bounding over the peak.

“Get back here! Stay with the group!” Brambleclaw called after her, rushing over the stone and into the land beyond the Clans.

“Don’t go without me!” Tawnypelt yowled, vanishing into the unknown.

Stormfur gave Feathertail a quiet nod. Then he, too, was gone.

Crowpaw looked out over the Clans’ land just one more time. There was the moor, the river, the forest. There was home and all he loved.

Feathertail touched his cheek with her muzzle.

Well, maybe not  _all_ he loved.

Together with her, matching pawstep for pawstep, Crowpaw left the Clans behind him.

 _Over stone,_ he thought as he joined the others at the beginning of the path. Their journey toward the setting sun had begun at last.

 

[END "PATH OF STARS" BOOK ONE: STARLIGHT]


	13. Sunset Allegiances

** Allegiances **

 

**The Journey Cats**

Tawnypelt, pale tortoiseshell she-cat

Crowpaw, dark gray tom with blue eyes

Feathertail, silver tabby she-cat

Stormfur, dark gray tom

Brambleclaw, dark brown tabby tom with amber eyes

Squirrelpaw, ginger she-cat with a fluffy tail

 

**Tribe of Rushing Water**

_Healer_                    Teller of Pointed Stones (Stoneteller), old brown tabby tom with white muzzle

_Cave-Guards_          Sheer Path Beside Waterfall (Sheer), brown tabby tom

                             Talon of Swooping Eagle (Talon), large brown tabby tom

                             Rock Beneath Still Water (Rock), black tom with short tail

                             Crag Where Eagles Nest (Crag), gray tom

_Prey-Hunters_ Brook Where Small Fish Swim (Brook), brown tabby she-cat with gray eyes

                             Daisy Growing On Cliff (Daisy), cream she-cat with short tail

                             Bird That Rides the Wind (Bird), pale tortoiseshell she-cat with tabby

                             markings

                             Mist Where Sunlight Shimmers, pale tortoiseshell she-cat

_To-Be’s_                 Snow Falling on Stones (Snow), black and white she-cat

                             Gray Sky Before Dawn (Gray), pale gray tabby tom

_Kit Mothers_            Night of No Stars (Night), black she-cat, expecting Sheer's kits

                             Flight of Startled Heron (Flight), brown tabby she-cat, mother to

                             Splash When Fish Leaps

 

**Cats Outside the Clans**

Millie, silver tabby she-cat


	14. Sunset Prologue

_Prologue_

A group of cats huddled together in a cave behind a roaring waterfall. In the center of the circle of cats was a dip in the ground, lined with moss and feathers. The cats sorrowfully pushed flowers into the shallow hole with their paws. A cream she-cat with a short tail broke their solemn silence with a wail that broke off as she buried her face in the brown tabby fur of a nearby she-cat.

A large tom hung his scarred head, tail twitching with irritation. He clearly had something to say, but, thinking better of it, remained silent for the time being. The empty gave of a tribemate was no place to pick fights. Ordinarily they would have paid their respects to the cat’s body before taking it outside and returning it to the sky, but no body had been left behind—at least, not one they could carry back to the cave in a single piece.

From the back of the cave emerged an old tom, his dark brown fur dull with age though his amber eyes gleamed with the faint glow of moonlight. His voice rasped when he spoke, “The Tribe of Endless Hunting has given me a sign.”

It was this that the other cats had been waiting for, and they turned their full attention to the old tom.

The cream she-cat padded forward, eyes shining. “Does Shrub that Shelters Sparrows walk their skies?”

“He does,” the old cat nodded, “And there is more. Our ancestors have spoken thus: a cat the color of the stars will free us from Sharptooth.”

“The color of the stars?” the large tom scoffed, “We need real cats with claws and teeth to fight Sharptooth, not spirits and omens!”

A startled hush fell over the other cats at his challenge, and the old tom lifted his head. Though grizzled and turning gray, his broad muzzle still commanded an air of respect when he raised his chin.

“The Tribe of Rushing Water needs its ancestors now more than ever, Talon of Swooping Eagle,” the old tom said, “They have given us a message of hope this night. There is an end to Sharptooth’s evil in sight. So they have spoken, so shall it be.”

“So they have spoken, so shall it be,” the rest of the cats murmured, though not all of their voices were as confident as the old tom’s, and the cream she-cat lowered her head to her paws in grief.

Talon of Swooping Eagle turned his head. “So be it, then.” He raced to the opening of the cave, his voice echoing against the wall of falling water behind him. “Any cat who wishes to _do_ something, come with me! Those of you who would rather be prey for Sharptooth, go ahead and wait here for this cat the color of stars!”

The brown tabby she-cat started to take a step, but took one look at the grieving cream she-cat and stayed her paw. In her place, a black tom with a short tail and a pale tortoiseshell she-cat with tabby stripes moved forward to join Talon. A sniff and a twitch of whiskers later, they were gone into the night.

_A cat the color of stars… what could it mean?_ the brown tabby she-cat wondered.

Fox-lengths beyond fathoming away, a silver she-cat woke and lifted her head to the stars, as if she could hear something calling to her from the distant mountain peaks.


	15. Sunset Chapter One

_Chapter One_

Feathertail paused to lick her aching pads.

She and her companions had spent almost all day walking away from the warrior Clans. She was a RiverClan cat, and not used to walking so far without the soft, loamy earth of the riverbank under her paws.

Her brother Stormfur had inherited their ThunderClan father’s hardier paw pads, and wasn’t as bothered by traveling over the peaks of Highstones and into the fields beyond the Clans. The grass was shorter here, nearer to the hard, sun-baked ground.

Stormfur walked beside the ThunderClan warrior Brambleclaw and ThunderClan apprentice Squirrelpaw, looking almost more at peace with them than he did in their own Clan. If he was bothered by their Clanmates’ taunts about their heritage, he never showed it, despite showing more of their ThunderClan blood than Feathertail. Seeing him with the ThunderClan cats, though, made Feathertail wonder if he might be happier in their father’s Clan.

It even came down to their names; Stormfur was named for the roaring thunder of their father’s Clan, and Feathertail was named after the beautiful feathers that decorated RiverClan’s dens. Her earliest memory was Mistyfoot sorrowfully plucking a jay’s feather from Silverstream’s nest and putting it in the nursery for Featherkit and Stormkit.

Crowpaw limped along next to Feathertail. There was no time to let his wounds heal, and the WindClan deputy Mudclaw had left deep slashes through his pelt. He didn’t complain, but there was a hiss hidden behind his labored breathing.

Tawnypelt of ShadowClan led the way, and Feathertail was glad of her confidence. Though Feathertail had been the most adamant about undertaking the journey StarClan set before them, her courage disappeared like a fish beneath the river’s surface when they actually left their familiar territories behind. Then all the fearful _what if’s_ found their way to her. What if they never made it back to the Clans? What if she left without saying goodbye to Graystripe and Mothwing? What if they couldn’t complete StarClan’s quest in time and the Clans were lost forever?

Even more pressing—what if Crowpaw didn’t heal? If they were still in Clan territory, they could take him to a medicine cat and have his wounds treated to prevent infection and help them close, but none of them knew much of anything about healing herbs. Squirrelpaw pointed out a few things she thought might be helpful that she vaguely remembered her medicine cat apprentice sister Leafpaw tell her about.

However, after she incorrectly thought a batch of poison oak was dock, the group decided it was for everyone’s benefit if they ignored Squirrelpaw’s suggestions when it came to plants.

“Can we stop and hunt?” Squirrelpaw whined, dragging her paws. “I’m starving, and we’ve been walking all morning!”

Tawnypelt stopped, considered it for a moment, and nodded. “Alright. Who’s hunting?”

Feathertail curled her tail over her paws. She was a great fisher, but when it came to things like mice and voles, she could never quite get her paws to do what she wanted. “I’ll look after Crowpaw,” she offered instead.

Stormfur wrinkled his nose at her, but didn’t say anything. “I’ll hunt.”

“I can smell some mice in those bushes,” Brambleclaw added, gesturing with his tail.

Squirrelpaw suddenly had energy again, and bounced on her paws. “I bet I catch twice as many as you, Bramblemud!”

“Don’t call me—” but she was already off, “Squirrelpaw, come back! You don’t know what could be in there!”

“ _Mice_ , duh!” Squirrelpaw called back, hopefully not scaring all the prey back into their hiding places.

Tawnypelt purred in amusement at her brother’s exasperated sigh. “Apprentices, right?”

“She’s not _my_ apprentice,” Brambleclaw huffed, padding after the bright ginger she-cat with Stormfur close behind.

Tawnypelt carefully sniffed the bushes around them before slinking under one to rest. The poor ShadowClan cat wasn’t used to being awake for so long during the day, and she deserved a long nap.

Crowpaw turned in a circle and sank into a clump of grass, his long legs tucked under his body to make him look smaller than he was. Feathertail sat beside him, rasping her tongue over his wounds until quiet purrs rose from his chest.

Stormfur fit in so well with the ThunderClan cats, but Feathertail knew she’d never belong anywhere but RiverClan, no matter how much she might wish differently. And Crowpaw could never be a RiverClan cat. His sleek frame and lithe limbs were perfect for running on the moor, but he’d sink like a stone if he tried to swim.

_Imagine if things were different,_ Feathertail thought, as she often did when she needed to cheer herself up. She stretched her legs, seeing herself as a long, lanky WindClan warrior, and pressed her muzzle to Crowpaw’s neck and pretended she was burying her nose in a thicker, denser coat more suited to RiverClan.

And what if everything changed once they found the meaning of StarClan’s prophecy? What if the Clans needed to unite, and the old borders didn’t matter anymore? What if Crowpaw, a warrior—Crowstrike, maybe?—brought her rabbits from the moors to feed their fluffy black and lithe silver kits?

_A little early to imagine kits, Feathertail!_

But she had always looked up to gentle Dawnflower, who stayed in the nursery even when she wasn’t nursing kits and helped new queens. She’d always thought that, once she met the right tom, the position of nursery queen might be the right one for her. She liked hunting, but combat had never been Feathertail’s strength, and she couldn’t put her heart into hurting other cats the way some of her Clanmates could.

The same had been true of Mothwing when they’d trained together, and her shy friend found her calling as a medicine cat. There were more ways to be a Clan cat than fighting.

_And this journey will prove that,_ Feathertail thought. _We’re all from different Clans, and we’re all working together. It’s possible._

But would she ever be able to convince Leopardstar of that? The RiverClan leader hated ThunderClan, and she held Feathertail and Stormfur’s heritage against them, even favoring former rogues like Hawkfrost and Mothwing over them. Feathertail had no problem with Mothwing or her brother’s heritage, but she didn’t know how she was going to get through to Leopardstar when her prejudice against ThunderClan was so strong that she preferred cats with no Clan blood at all to their neighbors.

Leopardstar hated ThunderClan so much that after she found out her former deputy Stonefur was half-ThunderClan, she let Tigerstar order his execution for refusing to kill his own apprentice. Feathertail was grateful her memories of that time were vague. She knew she was cold and hungry, her whole body shaking from weakness, while Stonefur fought bravely to defend them.

Stonefur’s littermate, Mistyfoot, was deputy now, but Feathertail was certain Leopardstar only chose her to quell the unease among RiverClan’s warriors at her actions.

No matter how much she tried, Feathertail couldn’t imagine a world where Leopardstar listened to her, much less agreed to work together with ThunderClan on anything. Instead she liked to imagine a RiverClan where Crookedstar was still leader, or where he’d chosen a different cat to take his place. Feathertail would rather serve under Mistystar or Dawnstar, cats who were firm with those outside their borders but gentle to those within.

Feathertail spent so long imagining that she was jolted by a squirrel being dropped at her paws, almost as if she’d been startled from sleep. Crowpaw groggily raised his head and yawned, sniffing with disinterest at the squirrel tail.

Stormfur glared at them, not even waiting for Feathertail to thank him before walking away to eat his own fresh-kill alone. Tawnypelt took his place with the ThunderClan cats, sharing a trio of mice with Brambleclaw and Squirrelpaw.

Squirrelpaw looked quite pleased with herself, mewing, “I caught _two_ mice, and Brambleclaw only caught _one_.”

“And a shrew,” Brambleclaw pointed out just as Stormfur gulped down his catch.

Feathertail looked after Stormfur and sighed. They were usually so close, and she’d been excited to have him along on the journey. However, the more time she spent looking after Crowpaw, the more distant her brother became. She could feel the argument looming like dark clouds on the horizon. He didn’t approve of her closeness with the WindClan cat, but he couldn’t speak without her pointing out his longing for the friendship of ThunderClan warriors. And she _would_ point it out.

“So,” Tawnypelt said, swiping her tongue over her jaws, “Does anyone have any idea how far we’re supposed to go ‘toward the setting sun’?”

“Until StarClan sends a sign to stop us, I guess,” Squirrelpaw said.

“Let cats who are actually part of the prophecy answer,” Brambleclaw scolded, to which Squirrelpaw only rolled her eyes.

“She’s probably right,” Crowpaw mumbled, forcing down a bite of prey. “StarClan sent us. They won’t let us miss whatever it is we’re looking for.”

“They could be a little more specific,” Tawnypelt groaned. “Well, the sun should be setting soon, so we can get our bearings again. Onward?”

Crowpaw shakily got to his feet, and Feathertail tried not to make it obvious that she was helping him stand.

“Onward,” Stormfur answered, and once the bones of their fresh-kill was buried they set off again.


	16. Sunset Chapter Two

_Chapter Two_

They walked until the sun had almost set, leaving them in the shadows of the tall, jagged peaks in the distance.

Tawnypelt seemed more at ease in the dark, and Squirrelpaw trotted along the same as ever.

“That must be where we’re going,” the ginger apprentice said, “I mean, look at it. It’s like Highstones! _Really_ Highstones.”

Feathertail wished she could feel as enthusiastic as Squirrelpaw, but the sight of the sharp hills filled her with dread. They looked like teeth scraping against the sky, waiting to close on any helpless cats within.

And worse, Crowpaw was still limping, barely managing to keep pace with them. In the shadow he nearly disappeared. Feathertail couldn’t help but think that was a dark sign from StarClan that they should stay away from the peaks.

“Crowpaw won’t make it up the slopes,” she said finally, and she could feel him bristle with indignation beside her. She’d apologize for doubting him later, when his life wasn’t in danger. “There must be a way around, or a safer way up that we can’t see from here…”

Ever eager to be helpful, Squirrelpaw chimed in, “There’s a TwolegPlace not far from here. I remember seeing it from Highstones. If we stop there, we can get herbs from a Twoleg garden to help Crowpaw. Maybe some kittypet can even guide us.”

“ _StarClan_ will guide us,” Brambleclaw said stubbornly. “I think we should continue the way we’ve been. The prophecy said to head toward the setting sun, and these might be the stones we need to go over—which means going around is against StarClan’s will.”

“And it would be against StarClan’s will to go without Crowpaw, since they chose him for the journey!” Feathertail pointed out, her fur fluffing up despite her desire to stay calm. “I know we don’t have much time, but… I have a bad feeling. Those hills are dangerous.”

“If Feathertail wants to go around, we’ll go around,” Stormfur said.

“Who made Feathertail the leader of this patrol?” Tawnypelt challenged, her tail arching low behind her. “I think Brambleclaw is right—if StarClan wants us to go over stone, then we go over stone. Who knows what could be lurking in that TwolegPlace?”

“Dogs, for one thing,” Brambleclaw pointed out.

“At least we know how to fight dogs,” Stormfur countered.

Squirrelpaw puffed up her already bushy tail. “But _Crowpaw_ —”

“I’ll be fine,” Crowpaw spat, standing up straighter on wobbly legs in a way that made Feathertail’s stomach feel like she had dove into the river during leaf-bare. “We can go over.”

Feathertail hissed in protest, “But—”

“Enough!” Tawnypelt snapped. “ThunderClan and ShadowClan will go over the… Greatstones. WindClan and RiverClan can go through TwolegPlace. There, it’s settled.”

Feathertail’s eyes widened. “ _No_!”

The force of her cry startled all of the other cats, and they looked at her with wide eyes. Even she didn’t understand why she was so opposed to it—she had no loyalty to Tawnypelt, Brambleclaw, or Squirrelpaw. They were cats from different Clans, and though she admired them, her primary concerns were for RiverClan’s place in the prophecy and Crowpaw’s health.

Yet still, the idea of the group separating filled her with even more dread than the peaks in the distance. She knew if they separated, they would never see each other again, and the quest would fail.

Squirrelpaw stood beside her and wrapped her fluffy tail over Feathertail’s back. Her green eyes looked up at Brambleclaw in a way Feathertail was sure helped her get her way around ThunderClan camp more often than not. “Please, Brambleclaw. This is important.”

The brown tabby’s shoulders stiffened, then relaxed as he relented. “Fine. We’ll go through TwolegPlace, if it matters that much.”

Tawnypelt spat in irritation, but did not continue the argument. Together the cats turned their paws toward the collection of Twoleg gardens and dens, and Feathertail hoped they would reach it and find shelter before nightfall.

Squirrelpaw moved to walk beside her, but Brambleclaw headed her off, putting himself between her and the other cats. Stormfur, as well, put himself between Feathertail and Tawnypelt. If not for Crowpaw’s condition, she had no doubt her brother would try to stop her from walking beside him as well.

_This can’t be what StarClan intended_ , Feathertail thought.

They were on the journey, but they weren’t on it together. Not really. Not the way Feathertail imagined they would be when they set out from Highstones.

_How are we going to complete this quest when we can’t even agree on which way to go without fighting?_

 

From a distance, TwolegPlace seemed safer than Greatstones, but once the cats were walking between the tall walls of the Twoleg dens, Feathertail started having second thoughts. Still, there was something foreboding about Greatstones that made her fur creep with icy cold just looking at them.

She found a Twoleg bush for Crowpaw to shelter under, but getting him to actually rest his paws was a battle fit for LionClan warriors.

“I told you, I’m _fine_ ,” he hissed, batting at one of the twigs. “I don’t need rest.”

“You’ve been walking all day. If my paws need a break, so do yours,” Feathertail insisted. He grumbled and paced around the bush, but once Feathertail settled in and tucked her paws under her, he eventually laid down beside her and pressed his head to her shoulder.

She felt warm where he touched her, and not in a sweet, moonstruck way.

Feathertail rasped her tongue between Crowpaw’s ears and jerked back. “You’re hotter than Sunningrocks!”

“Gee, thanks,” Crowpaw murmured, his head sinking onto his paws.

“Squirrelpaw!” Feathertail called to the ginger she-cat sitting on the wall between gardens, “Squirrelpaw, Crowpaw has a fever. Did Leafpaw ever tell you anything about that?”

Squirrelpaw stared up at the sky in contemplation, and Feathertail wracked her memory for an answer in one of her many conversations with Mothwing. She might be a new medicine cat apprentice, but Mothwing had an interest in healing herbs for moons beforehand. She talked Feathertail’s ear off all day about the many uses of catmint and mouse bile if the silver she-cat let her (and she usually did).

Why couldn’t Feathertail remember anything about _fevers_?

“Uh, feverfew, probably,” Squirrelpaw answered finally. “I mean… it’s called _fever_ few.”

“Feverfew. Right. That makes sense.” Feathertail looked around the garden. “What does feverfew look like?”

“I, uh… don’t know.”

“They’re flowers,” Tawnypelt said, “White, with yellow centers. Like daisies, but smaller.” When Brambleclaw looked at her with a questioning tilt of his head, she added, “There’s a patch that grows near ShadowClan’s camp. Littlecloud has been maintaining it for moons, in case some foolish apprentice tries hunting at Carrionplace.” She shook her pelt. “Let’s split up and look. There’s bound to be some in one of these gardens.”

“Squirrelpaw, you stay here. You can watch for dogs from the wall and keep an eye on Crowpaw,” Brambleclaw said. Feathertail thought she might protest to being ordered around, but was relieved when the apprentice gave a firm nod and sat up a little straighter to keep a watch on the other gardens.

Stormfur joined Feathertail in jumping over the wall, landing neatly in the garden closest to the sunset.

The garden had a small lake embedded into stone in its center, and a tall, leafless tree around some strange, barren bushes. There wasn’t much room for familiar plants to grow, and there certainly weren’t any white flowers.

Feathertail prepared to jump over another wall when Stormfur put a paw to her side. “Wait, Feathertail. We shouldn’t go too far.”

“I’ll go as far as it takes,” she returned, and made the leap.

The moment her paws touched the top of the wall, she was met with loud barking. A big, brown dog lunged up at her, its claws scraping against the wall, jaws snapping less than a tail-length below her. She screeched and jerked back, falling ungracefully into the sparse greens of the strange lake-garden, beside Stormfur.

“Dog!” Squirrelpaw called out, and Feathertail saw quick flashes of fur as Brambleclaw and Tawnypelt returned to the shelter bush.

_Great timing on the warning,_ Feathertail thought, though it wasn’t Squirrelpaw’s fault she couldn’t see the dog from her perch. Stormfur had obviously realized something was off about the next garden, but she’d gone ahead anyway. She had only herself to blame.

After a moment Tawnypelt appeared on the wall, glaring down at the RiverClan cats. “ _Well_? Come check in!”

Stormfur lowered his tail indignantly, begrudging each step he took back toward the shelter bush.

“Didn’t find any feverfew,” Tawnypelt reported.

“We didn’t either,” Feathertail sighed.

“I found this.” Brambleclaw set a frond of purple flowers down in front of them. “It’s not feverfew, but I remember seeing it in Cinderpelt’s den. Does anyone know what it is?”

Crowpaw took one sniff. “Lavender,” he answered.

“Any idea what it does?” Tawnypelt asked.

“Uh… it’s… good for bellyaches, maybe?” Squirrelpaw offered.

“If we’re going to suggest any plant to help, we might as well tell him to eat grass,” Stormfur huffed.

“If you have a better idea, I’d love to hear it,” Brambleclaw retorted.

_Don’t start fighting again!_ Feathertail thought, looking back and forth between the two toms.

She took the lavender and offered it to Crowpaw. “It’s better than nothing at all,” she mewed, and he didn’t hesitate to breathe the scent in deeply. She hoped he was familiar enough with the plant to know what to do with it.

“And now we wait,” Brambleclaw muttered, sitting on the opposite side of the bush. Squirrelpaw joined him while Tawnypelt maintained her place on the wall, keeping a sharp eye on things as the sky darkened.

Feathertail settled just beyond Crowpaw’s reach, watching him carefully as he breathed with the worry that, at any moment, he might stop. She wanted more than anything to curl up with him in his time of need, but her thick fur would only make him warmer than he already was.

She had never wished for Mothwing’s companionship more in her life, and for the first time ever she wished that the golden tabby was with her instead of Stormfur.

_StarClan, please help Crowpaw get better, and please guide us along the right path!_


	17. Sunset Chapter Three

_Chapter Three_

_Feathertail’s paws struck hard stone as she ran. Cats outlined by starlight ran beside her, and she could feel their frantic heartbeats with her own. She didn’t know how long she’d been running, but it felt like a lifetime._

_“Stonefur?” she called, but she didn’t see the former deputy among the starry cats. She didn’t see any cat she recognized, from any Clan._

_Something roared behind her, so loud it shook the stone beneath her paws. She halted, turning around to see whatever it was, but all she saw was a mouth full of teeth, about to close over her—_

 

Feathertail jerked awake, relieved to see Stormfur beside her and Crowpaw still breathing. He had shifted in his sleep, but the lavender was still close to his muzzle and he looked much more comfortable than he had when they went to sleep.

When Feathertail moved, Tawnypelt jerked her head up, too—but for a different reason. A strange sound filled Feathertail’s ears, and she looked toward the Twoleg den to see that part of the wall had opened.

Tawnypelt nudged Brambleclaw, keeping as still as possible. If something came out of the den—a Twoleg or a dog, even another cat—they might not notice the group of Clan cats right away. If they moved quietly, they could get away without being spotted.

Squirrelpaw was twitching in her sleep. Brambleclaw stilled his paw over her, hesitating to wake her when she was in the midst of a dream in case she called out. Feathertail took care of Crowpaw and Stormfur, nosing their fur until they opened their eyes and then brushing her tail over their muzzles to warn them to keep quiet.

Finally, Brambleclaw brought his paw down on Squirrelpaw’s back, and she jumped up. She almost mewed in alarm, but Tawnypelt swiftly brought a paw down on her head, keeping her jaw to the ground so she couldn’t open her mouth.

Tawnypelt made a series of tail gestures toward the fence and leapt up. Stormfur, Brambleclaw, and Squirrelpaw followed easily. Feathertail waited for Crowpaw, who made a valiant effort—but fell short of the top and slid down, his claws scraping noisily against the wall and sending him crashing back into the foliage.

Paws crossed the garden, and before the other warriors could jump down from the wall, a silver tabby she-cat stood in front of Feathertail and Crowpaw. Her tail was fluffed out in alarm, but waved in a friendly way at them.

“What are you doing in my garden?” she asked, though her tone wasn’t hostile.

“Leaving,” Tawnypelt answered, not giving up her position on the wall.

The silver she-cat sniffed at them. “You don’t smell like the loners I know. Who are you?” She sat, folding her tail over her paws. “My name is Millie.”

“We’re Clan cats!” Squirrelpaw exclaimed.

“Clan cats?” Millie tipped her head, eyes narrowed. “You don’t look like BloodClan, but if you are, I will fight to protect my garden.”

“We aren’t BloodClan,” Brambleclaw said hastily, and at the same time Squirrelpaw puffed her chest out and declared, “My father killed Scourge!”

“You mean BloodClan is still around?” Tawnypelt asked.

“In a sense,” Millie answered. “They aren’t as big a problem as they used to be, but there are still rogues that claim they’re part of BloodClan to try pushing the loners around.” She licked a paw and brushed it over her ear. “If you Clan cats really did kill Scourge and help break BloodClan down, then every cat in Twoleg Place owes you their thanks—even we housecats. And I’m sorry for what I’ve heard about your forest…”

Stormfur leapt down from the wall and approached Millie so quickly that she backed up a whole fox-length. “What have you heard?”

“The news came from across the Twoleg Place,” Millie said, “So I don’t know how reliable, but my loner friend Purdy heard from Smudge and Hattie, who heard from a barn cat named Ravenpaw, that strange Twoleg monsters are moving in that area. They’re on the moor now, but they’re moving toward the forest a little more every day.”

“They’re already on the moor?” Crowpaw gasped.

_That must be why Tallstar hasn’t moved WindClan’s camp back,_ Feathertail thought. She wrapped her tail over Crowpaw’s shoulder.

“We have to go back,” Crowpaw said. “Blackstar was right—it _was_ Twolegs! We have to warn them!”

“They probably already know,” Stormfur pointed out. “If there’s monsters on the moor, then WindClan must be aware of the danger. I’m sure Tallstar is already taking action. And he’s sensible, so he’d have warned the other Clans by now.”

“But this proves that we need to keep going, and complete this quest as fast as possible,” Tawnypelt said. “StarClan must know a way to save the Clans, and we’re meant to find it and bring it back. And _soon_.”

Feathertail knew what she was getting at with that statement. The Greatstones still loomed in the distance, beckoning. The thought of going through them still filled Feathertail with dread as she recalled the jaws from her dream, but Tawnypelt might be right. They’d barely made any progress in Twoleg Place, and if there were former BloodClan rogues still stalking the streets on top of dogs and monsters and Thunderpaths, it wouldn’t be safe to try taking an alternative route. They would have to backtrack and go through Greatstones.

At least Crowpaw didn’t feel so warm anymore. His wounds weren’t fully healed yet, but he was a lot livelier than he had been. Whatever the lavender did, it helped at least a little.

“Why would Twolegs do something like this?” Brambleclaw hissed.

“I don’t think they realize what they’re doing. They don’t live in the forest, so they can’t imagine what they’re doing to the creatures that do,” Millie offered. “Twolegs aren’t evil, just a tad mousebrained.”

Feathertail jumped at the clamoring of the den opening again, and three kits spilled out into the garden—a tortoiseshell she-kit, a gray tabby tom, and a brown she-kit who was fumbling over a little more than the others. Instead of running over on four legs, she dragged herself across the ground on the front two, though she was just as fast as the others.

“Millie! Millie! Millie!” the kits called. “Millie, the Twoleg put the wet food down! You’re missing it!” Round blue eyes fell on the journeying cats. “Millie, who are they?”

Millie purred in amusement at the kits’ antics. “These are Clan cats. They’re on an important quest.”

“Can _we_ go on an important quest?” The kits’ eyes sparkled with wonder and Feathertail suppressed a purr. No matter where they came from, kits were kits.

“In time, when you get your Twoleg,” Millie said. “Go back in and have your breakfast, now. I’ll be along soon.”

The den wall was still open, and the kits ambled back to it, the she-kit pulling herself with her front paws keeping pace with her four-pawed littermates.

“What happened to that she-kit?” Tawnypelt asked in a hushed voice.

“I’m not sure. She might have been hurt by something, or maybe she was born that way. It doesn’t seem to bother her much,” Millie answered with a dismissive flick of her whiskers.

Feathertail twitched her nose. Surely kittypets couldn’t be so negligent of their kits that she wouldn’t _know_ if the kit had been born that way?

Sensing her confusion, Millie purred with laughter.

“They aren’t _my_ kits,” she explained, “My Twoleg takes in orphaned kits and raises them until they’re ready to go to their own Twolegs. Blossom, Bumble, and Briar are only here for a little while. We may have a little more trouble than usual finding a Twoleg to care for Briar, but she’ll have a happy life like any other housecat once we do.” She looked at them with gratitude. “BloodClan made many orphans. While I love each of them like they were my own, I’m glad we don’t have as many to look after anymore.”

With that said, Millie turned and headed back toward the den, her tail lifting in a friendly wave. “I wish you luck in whatever you do, Clan cats. You’re welcome in my garden should you need a place to rest.”

“May StarClan light your path!” Squirrelpaw called after her.

The black and silver kits Feathertail imagined having with Crowpaw vanished like clouds under the heat of the sun.

She always thought being a nursery queen suited her, and she always assumed she would have to have kits to make that happen. But if Millie could care for kits that weren’t hers, why couldn’t she? She might like it better than bringing more kits into a Clan that wouldn’t accept their heritage no matter who fathered them, thanks to her ThunderClan blood.

Then again, if they didn’t complete their quest and get back to the Clans soon, she might not have a choice. BloodClan wasn’t the only thing that could make orphans of kits.

They waited until the den wall closed again before Brambleclaw helped Crowpaw up onto the wall, and Feathertail jumped up after him. In a line of six, they walked along the wall, back out of Twoleg Place. No other cats disturbed them, and the dogs that barked at them didn’t bother to jump at the wall.

Once they were out, the joy of seeing the kits disappeared. Every cat was quiet and tense, shaken by the news of the strange monsters on Clan territories. Squirrelpaw suppressed her whimpers poorly.

“Let’s hunt,” Tawnypelt said, giving them something else to think about.

Feathertail trotted over to Squirrelpaw to join her and Brambleclaw on a hunt. Maybe next to an apprentice her own land-hunting wouldn’t seem so poor.

“What did you dream about?” Feathertail asked, hoping that would take her mind off it.

“My sister,” Squirrelpaw whispered, the quietest she’d ever been as far as Feathertail knew, “I miss Leafpaw, and by now all the Clans must know we’re gone. I’m sure they can guess where we went, but I should have said something. I should have said goodbye to Leafpaw and Sandstorm and Firestar, and Dustpelt, and the other apprentices…” She sighed. “They’ll be so worried.”

“Then we’ll just have to get back to them soon,” Feathertail said, “We can’t be far from whatever StarClan wanted us to find now.”

“Or you could go back _now_ ,” Brambleclaw suggested.

“By _myself_?” Squirrelpaw asked.

“I’d go, too,” Brambleclaw said. “Remember, Firestar didn’t grant us permission to—”

“Oh, there you go, being Bramblemud again!” Squirrelpaw flicked her tail and dropped into a hunting crouch. “Be quiet while I catch some mice!”

Brambleclaw bit back a retort, seeing that she _was_ stalking a mouse hiding under a bush not far away. It must have emerged just after her indignant yowling and missed its cue to run for safety.

Feathertail was no expert at catching mice, but she would say Squirrelpaw was. She arched her tail carefully, making sure the plume didn’t brush against the grass, and crept forward. Rather than approach head-on, she skirted around the bush, swiping the mouse away from its hole and pouncing while it was disoriented to make a clean kill.

“Good catch!” Feathertail praised, and even Brambleclaw looked a little impressed.

By the end of the hunting patrol, Feathertail hadn’t caught a thing. Thankfully Squirrelpaw, Brambleclaw, Tawnypelt, and Stormfur did. Crowpaw made his best attempt, but he was still too hurt to move fast enough to run his prey down, and WindClan cats weren’t known for their stealth.

With full bellies and a clear goal in front of them, the group began their trek toward Greatstones. As the sun set, Feathertail felt the shadows cast by the tall peaks creep over her fur, drawing her in. What waited for them there, in those stones that looked like jaws ripping the sky?


	18. Sunset Chapter Four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic will now be updated weekly instead of every other week! Patrons still receive chapters a week early, but all chapters will be made public on a weekly schedule until "Sunset" is done. There will be a brief hiatus after "Sunset" is completed so I can build up a backlog of chapters and start releasing the third "book" on a weekly schedule again.
> 
> Yay!

_Chapter Four_

Tawnypelt led the cats through Greatstones following the sun all day, and by the time the sun set the only evidence that they’d moved at all was their sore legs and pads.

Squirrelpaw curled up on the covered ledge where they were taking shelter for the night and licked her paws furiously as soon as they stopped.

“I feel like my legs are going to fall off!” she complained, “This is like being on dawn patrol, evening patrol, and two hunting patrols between, only there’s no fresh-kill either!”

Feathertail could tell Brambleclaw wanted to scold her for whining, but he could hardly disagree. He started to limp as the sun touched the horizon, and now that it was down he had flopped hard onto his side, letting his paws touch nothing for a while.

“StarClan has a plan,” Stormfur muttered, tucking his paws under him.

“Hopefully it doesn’t involve losing our claws,” Tawnypelt grumbled, flexing her claws. The tips looked blunt, worn down from scraping against the stone all day. Thankfully none of them were torn or bleeding.

“Greatstones is the _wooorst_ ,” Squirrelpaw whined, covering her nose with her tired paws. “I wish Leafpaw was here.”

Feathertail put her tail over the ginger apprentice. She was lucky enough to travel with Stormfur, even if he didn’t always act the way she would have liked. And Brambleclaw and Tawnypelt were together again after being apart in different Clans for seasons. Crowpaw, as far as she knew, had no littermates to miss. Only Squirrelpaw was parted from her sister.

“I wonder if Harekit and Rabbitkit are apprentices yet,” Crowpaw mused, and Feathertail turned her ear in his direction.

“Spiderpaw, Birchpaw, and Shrewpaw might be warriors already,” Brambleclaw added.

“At least we know Mosspelt hasn’t had her kits yet,” Stormfur mewed just to keep the conversation going. Even though they were all tired, none of them wanted to sleep on the hard stone that, despite the covering over them, felt too exposed without den walls.

“Is it dumb that I was hoping I’d get an apprentice as soon as I became a warrior?” Crowpaw asked.

“No, it happens,” Squirrelpaw said, “Graystripe and Firestar got apprentices right away.”

“Feathertail and I have been warriors for moons and haven’t had an apprentice yet,” Stormfur pointed out, and Feathertail resisted the urge to tell him that they would probably never have apprentices. Not in Leopardstar’s RiverClan.

“I think I’m getting Talonkit or Starlingkit for my first apprentice,” Tawnypelt said.

Brambleclaw snorted. “Do you have the patience for an apprentice?”

“I’m doing better than you!” she laughed back, prodding Squirrelpaw with a paw, “Right?”

“Loads better,” Squirrelpaw purred, flicking Brambleclaw’s nose with her tail. “Bramblemud! I can already tell exactly the kind of mentor you’d be. The first thing you would show your apprentice on a tour of the territory is where to get moss for the elders’ nests.”

“Oh, no. The first thing I’d do is give my apprentice a moon of dawn patrols. If they could get through that, they could get through anything.”

“But then _you’d_ have to go on dawn patrols for a moon,” Crowpaw said, “No, thanks.”

“You don’t like dawn patrol?” Stormfur asked.

“You _do_?” Crowpaw stared.

“It’s quiet.” Stormfur shifted his shoulders.

“Because every cat is sleeping!” Feathertail mewed.

“If I ever scent RiverClan near Sunningrocks in the morning, I’ll know who was there,” Squirrelpaw teased.

Gradually the dread that crept through Feathertail’s fur started to ease. Greatstones was dangerous, there was no doubting that, and the journey through would be hard. But she was glad to be there with these cats. The further they got from the Clans, the more those old divides seemed to vanish, letting them talk and laugh together like it was a Gathering. She barely recognized the cats who fought over which way to go only a short while ago.

 _Maybe we should have just gone right through Greatstones after all, if this is how they get along here,_ Feathertail thought.

She hoped it wouldn’t end the next time they had a disagreement, or even when they returned to the Clans.

Feathertail set her chin down on her paws and let the stress and fear flow out of her body like water spilling over the stone and slipping over the side. Things would be alright. They had to be.

StarClan had a plan.

 

Apparently StarClan’s plan included waking up with a brown tabby muzzle in her face—one that didn’t belong to Brambleclaw.

Feathertail jerked back with a hiss, bumping into Stormfur and Crowpaw, who hissed and arched their backs as well.

Three cats stood in front of them: a big, brown tabby tom, a black tom who looked like most of his tail had been cut off, and a pale tortoiseshell she-cat. None of them looked particularly friendly, and it didn’t take Feathertail any time to figure out why. They were as thin as cats in Leafbare, their ribs visible under their dull pelts, and there was fear in the eyes of the black tom and tortoiseshell she-cat.

The vision of jaws full of teeth closing over her flashed in Feathertail’s mind when she looked at them and she took another step back, until her tail was brushing against the stone.

“Back off,” Tawnypelt growled, her claws barely visible even when unsheathed. “We’ve got you outnumbered two to one.”

 _But they’ve got us cornered,_ Feathertail thought. _And they know Greatstones better than we do._

“You are on our territory,” the big brown tabby said. His mew was husky. “Who are you? Why are you here?”

“We’re warriors from the Clans,” Squirrelpaw explained again, though she didn’t move from her place behind Brambleclaw just yet. “We’re just going through.”

“We don’t want any trouble,” Brambleclaw added.

“Speak for yourself,” Crowpaw hissed.

 _You’re still injured!_ Feathertail wanted to snap at the impetuously brave tom.

“This land isn’t safe for outsiders,” the black tom said. “Go back where you came from, if you don’t want to die!”

Tawnypelt growled and prepared to lunge at the tabby, who seemed to be the leader, but Feathertail darted forward and stopped her. The black tom reared back like he might swat at her, but she stopped him by dipping her head.

“You’re right,” she said, “We don’t know where we’re going, and it’s dangerous. But maybe you could show us the way. You’d be safer traveling with us, and we’d get lost without you. We can help each other.”

“Talon,” the tortoiseshell whispered, “She’s right. And they said they’re warriors.”

The tabby—Talon—considered it for a moment before nodding. “Very well. Come with us, and we will show you a place where you can take shelter. It will take until sunrise for us to reach it, but there is enough moonlight to make the journey.”

Feathertail looked up—it seemed like not long ago at all that they left the Clans, but there was a clear claw-shaped moon in the sky, shining brightly over Greatstones.

“And it’s toward the setting sun?” Crowpaw asked worriedly.

Talon tilted his head at the odd question, but answered, “Yes.”

With the fight averted, Squirrelpaw found the energy to jump onto her paws. “StarClan must have led them to us,” she chattered to her fellow Clan cats, “We must be going the right way!”

“Yes,” Feathertail agreed, but there was something about these cats that unsettled her. What were they so scared of, and why were they so thin despite it being Greenleaf? The Clans had poor hunting compared to other Greenleaf seasons, but they knew now that it was because Twolegs were in the area disturbing the prey.

What was happening in Greatstones that caused these cats to be so thin?


	19. Sunset Chapter Five

_Chapter Five_

The roaring of the waterfall filled Feathertail’s ears in a way the rushing river never did, and for the first time in her life she was afraid of the water tumbling before her. White foam flooded down the stone, frothing angrily in a churning pool many fox-lengths below them.

In RiverClan, it was easy to forget that cats didn’t belong in the water. They had taken to it as well as the fish they hunted, and it was their special advantage over the other Clans. The waterfall was a severe reminder that she could drown as easily as any other cat.

Talon was unbothered, leading them along a narrow stone path that cut around behind the flow. “Our Tribe lives behind the waterfall. Follow me.”

He went first, of course, with Tawnypelt behind him, then Squirrelpaw, Brambleclaw, and the black tom named Rock. Crowpaw went next, and Stormfur nudged Feathertail’s shoulder to get her moving across the path. If she couldn’t see Crowpaw in front of her, limping a little as he walked, she might have been too afraid—but if Crowpaw slipped and fell into the water, she was one of the only warriors who had any hope of saving him.

Stormfur and the tortoiseshell she-cat, Bird, were the last cats to cross behind the fall. Feathertail kept her tail out straight behind her, letting it brush against her brother’s chest and front paws as he walked so she could know he was there.

Feathertail was never so relieved to be surrounded on all four sides as she was when they reached the cave behind the waterfall, which went far deeper back into the side of the stone hill than she thought it would. There were cats inside, but not as many as she thought—not as many as a Clan, even with Talon and his group.

“Talon, you’re back!” a brown tabby she-cat raced toward him and pressed her muzzle to his shoulder. “Did you do it? Have you found a way to—” She broke off when she saw the cats streaming in behind him. “What _did_ you find?”

“Warriors!” Talon announced, sounding much more optimistic than he had at any point during the long walk to get there. He barely spoke then, other than to grumble a warning or direction. “They are warriors from distant lands. With their help, we stand a chance at survival!”

Tawnypelt’s whiskers twitched and a chill crept through Feathertail’s fur. When had they agreed to help these cats with their problems?

_And what’s threatening their survival?_

An old tabby tom emerged from the back of the cave, his whiskers askew and fur matted in patches where he couldn’t reach to groom himself.

“Talon of Swooping Eagle,” he said, his tone even, “I am glad, as we all are, to see you have returned to the Tribe, and I welcome your new companions to stay. However,” his eyes raked over the Clan cats like the sharp gaze of a hawk, “these warriors cannot save us from Sharptooth. None of them is the color of stars.”

Talon growled, “How can you say that? We have the chance to save our Tribe with real cats, real warriors, but you would rather doom us all to wait for some fantastical star-cat!”

The old tom flicked his tail. “We have been over this, Talon. You are welcome to rejoin us if you like, but if you cannot respect my decision, then you must go.”

Bird and Rock exchanged a worried look. Judging from their thin frames, Feathertail didn’t think they could survive leaving the tribe again—the cats in the cave looked worried and poorly rested, but at least they were full-bodied and had sleek coats.

“What’s happening that you need help with?” Brambleclaw asked.

“It’s not our business,” Crowpaw reminded him in a low hiss. “Don’t be such a ThunderClan cat!”

“It would be good to know,” Stormfur added, lifting his head to address the old tom. “Please, maybe we can help. What is happening in your… Tribe?”

Sorrow a deep and wide as the river filled the old tom’s eyes. He turned his head, looking over the cats of his Tribe, before raising his voice to answer.

“Moons ago, the cats of the Tribe of Rushing Water were happy. We have lived in the mountains for generations in peace, and though they can be dangerous, we have always survived. When the eagle hunted us, we learned to hunt it back. When the stones fell under our paws, we learned how to walk to escape the collapse. Things have not been perfect, but they have been good.

“However, this season has brought a new threat to the mountains, one we cannot learn to overcome on our own. A lion with no mane called Sharptooth stalks these mountains. It is bigger than a ram, deadlier than an eagle. It hunts us. We have lost many cats already to its claws and teeth.

“But there is hope, still. The Tribe of Endless Hunting has sent me signs and spoken to me in dreams. A cat the color of stars will save us from Sharptooth.”

Feathertail looked to the other Clan cats. They must be thinking the same thing she was—that the Tribe of Endless Hunting and the cat the color of stars sounded a lot like StarClan. These strange mountain cats might be connected to their quest, if StarClan led them here.

“If that’s the case,” she said, clearing her throat with a small mew, “If that’s the case, then we should stay. Even if we can’t help, it’s too dangerous to try going through the mountain with Sharptooth out there.”

“It might be more dangerous to stay here if Sharptooth knows about this place,” Tawnypelt replied. She looked to the old cat. “Does it come here?”

“No,” the old cat answered.

“Not _yet_ ,” Talon spoke up, “It will find us eventually. The last time, it nearly caught Shrub that Shelters Sparrows outside the Cave of Rushing Water. It will figure out where we hide sooner or later, and we’ll be trapped.”

“The cave-guards wouldn’t let that happen!” a black she-cat yowled, though her tail curled over her curved sides protectively.

“The cave-guards are only cats,” Talon retorted, “And so is Sharptooth. If we all fight together, with these warriors, maybe we can overpower it.” He curled his lip at the old tom. “Stoneteller might think there’s no point in fighting back, but I know we could defeat Sharptooth if we all fought together, rather than waiting like frightened kits for rescue.”

“Shrub tried to fight,” a small cream she-cat with a short tail mewed. She was quiet, but the misery in her voice was deafening.

At last the brown tabby she-cat that greeted Talon when he arrived stepped between the two toms with stiff steps. “Is Shrub to blame for not overpowering Sharptooth? Or for not waiting for the cat the color of stars? I don’t care what we do, but we need to do _something_!” She turned to the Clan cats next, dipping her head. “I can’t say for sure that you’ll be safe—but I can say for sure that I appreciate you staying, if you want to help.”

Stormfur swallowed. “Of course we want to help. I’m just not sure we can.”

“We’re on a quest, too,” Crowpaw said, “StarClan sent us to find something that will save our Clans. I can’t see how helping these cats will save our own Clans.”

“You never know,” Brambleclaw said, “Firestar probably didn’t see how helping a mangy old fleabag like Yellowfang would help, but without her skill as a medicine cat, ThunderClan would have suffered for sure.”

Squirrelpaw rolled her eyes at him bringing up her father as an example, and looked to Tawnypelt for an answer. Feathertail realized they were all looking to Tawnypelt to make the decision, and the tortoiseshell she-cat scraped her already dull claws against the stone with uncertainty. Did she dare lead them out into the mountains with no guide, knowing Sharptooth was out there, hoping they made it to the other side of Greatstones okay? Or did she stay here, delaying their quest to help these cats win a battle that might be impossible?

“I think we should stay,” Feathertail said, though she didn’t like disagreeing with Crowpaw. “We’re tired, and we could get lost out there. It would be too easy for Sharptooth to hunt us while we’re wandering around.” She shifted her shoulders, remember the feeling of teeth closing around her pelt from her dreams. “But I don’t know about fighting Sharptooth. Maybe there’s another way, one no cat has considered yet.”

Stoneteller dipped his head graciously. “You are welcome to stay. Our prey-hunters can show you how to hunt tomorrow, after you have rested and enjoyed some caught-prey.”

With that, he left them, traveling to the back of the cave until he was out of sight. Talon growled softly, leading Rock and Bird deeper into the cave, but not following Stoneteller.

“I would be happy to,” the brown tabby she-cat purred, her odd gray eyes lingering on Stormfur more than any of them. “My name is Brook Where Small Fish Swim. You may call me Brook.”

“I’m Stormfur,” the RiverClan tom mewed, “This is my sister Feathertail, and our friends, Tawynpelt, Squirrelpaw, Brambleclaw, and Crowpaw.”

Brook tilted her head at the sound of their names. “Do you all call yourselves after your paws and tails?”

“No!” Squirrelpaw snorted, “Every warrior’s name is different. Some of them have names like Tawnypelt or Feathertail, but there are others. And Crowpaw and I are ‘paws because we aren’t warriors yet.”

“Rub it in,” Crowpaw mumbled.

“Not warriors yet…” Brook lifted her tail, “Ah, you are to-be’s!”

“To-be’s?” Stormfur asked.

Brook gestured with her tail toward a black and white she-cat wrestling with a pale gray tabby tom. They were doing more than kithood play-fighting, though, aiming careful, practiced blows at each other while they tousled across the stone floor. “To-be’s. Cats who are still learning to be cave-guards or prey-hunters.”

Feathertail looked around the cave, noticing that some of the cats were large and stocky, with powerful limbs and scarred pelts, bearing a certain resemblance to Tawnypelt and Brambleclaw. Others, like Brook, were smaller and lithe, like Crowpaw.

“What will your names be when you are warriors?” Brook asked.

“We don’t know,” Crowpaw said, the gruffness in his voice not fazing the mountain she-cat, “Our leaders decide when we become warriors.”

“How strange,” Brook replied, though there was wonder in her eyes. Particularly when she looked at Stormfur, and the curiosity seemed to be mutual to Feathertail. She suppressed a purr of amusement; she never thought her brother would be so moonstruck by a pretty she-cat!

She flicked his shoulder with her tail, giving him a knowing look before padding away with Crowpaw at her side.

Brook took a moment to notice they’d moved.

“I’ll get you some caught-prey!” she blurted, racing ahead of them toward a small pile of feathers and fur.

“That’s o—” Before Tawnypelt could stubbornly protest, she was presented with a raven, already stripped of half its feathers. Several feather nests were built around the cave, and the cream she-cat was already plucking brown-and-gold feathers from another piece of fresh-kill to build more for the Clan cats.

Brushing along Crowpaw’s shoulder before leaving him, Feathertail approached the she-cat.

“I’m sorry to hear about your Cla—Tribemate,” she said, “Were you close?”

She shifted her paws. “Yes. Shrub that Shelters Sparrows was my littermate.” She pushed her head against Feathertail’s shoulder gratefully. “Thank you. Even though I’d never argue with Stoneteller, I think Talon is right—with you warriors here, we may stand a chance of defending our home.” Her light blue eyes shone brightly in the dim sunlight. “My name is Daisy Growing On Cliff. My friends call me Daisy.”


	20. Sunset Chapter Six

_Chapter Six_

Feathertail sneezed as a feather brushed over her nose, and Crowpaw purred in laughter beside her. She thought the dark gray tom had always been a great hunter, but training with the prey hunters had only shown how great he really was. His long limbs, slender frame, and dark fur made him perfect for sheltering in dark crags, unseen while eagles flew lower to catch the mice and squirrels he stalked. When they swooped down, he dove from his shelter with the other prey hunters, and together they felled both the eagle and the mouse.

Crowpaw plucked the feather that tickled her and set it at her paws as a gift. “The nests here could always use more feathers,” he mewed.

“Keep it, then,” Feathertail replied, rubbing his cheek with her muzzle. His thin tail curled around her plume, both of them purring quietly.

“Do you really think StarClan meant for us to find the Tribe?” Crowpaw asked. “I can’t imagine what they have to do with saving the Clans.”

“StarClan can be mysterious,” Feathertail answered, “Half their prophecies don’t make any sense, but they end up being true anyway. We came over stone, heading toward the setting sun, and found other cats that know about StarClan—or, the Tribe of Endless Hunting. That has to mean something.”

Crowpaw rested his chin on her shoulder. “I know. I just don’t want to lose you.”

Feathertail rolled over, swatting him playfully with all four paws, claws sheathed of course. “Are you forgetting which one of us has been a warrior for moons?”

He bunched up his muscles, wiggling his rear like a kit before pouncing on her. She squealed, rolling over with him across the stone floor of the cave. All the other cats were watching them, and the other Clan cats were probably looking with judgement in their eyes, but Feathertail didn’t care. Being with Crowpaw made her as happy as when she was a kit, when she didn’t know what being HalfClan meant, when she thought there was nothing better than being just who she was.

 _Imagine if we stayed in the mountains,_ she thought. _We could both be Tribe cats. Then there wouldn’t be any Clan borders in our way._

“What are you two doing?” Stormfur hissed, and Crowpaw sprang free of Feathertail.

“It’s called having fun,” Feathertail answered, claws digging into her heart just as Stormfur’s scraped against the cave floor. Even if she and Crowpaw weren’t separated by Clan boundaries, she couldn’t help but feel that Stormfur would still be against their relationship.

Stormfur twitched his whiskers. He usually lost their arguments, but it might not stop him from leaving her a few sharp words that would leave wounds just as real as claws.

“Talon called a meeting of the cave-guards. We need to go over our strategy for facing Sharptooth,” Stormfur said, “Come on.”

Feathertail made a point of trailing her tail under Crowpaw’s chin as she walked away with Stormfur to meet with the Tribe cave-guards, which now included herself, Stormfur, Brambleclaw, and Tawnypelt. Stoneteller was nowhere to be seen, and surely wouldn’t have approved of their plans, but the cave-guards seemed far beyond listening to their leader anymore.

Surprisingly, Snow—the black and white she-cat to-be—joined them as well. Though Snow was old enough that she would be nearing the end of her apprenticeship in the Clans, she was still a few moons younger than Crowpaw.

 _Talon means to attack Sharptooth in full force,_ Feathertail thought.

The large tabby tom gestured to two piles of stone at the entrance to the cave.

“We know Sharptooth is hunting close to the Cave of Rushing Water,” he said, “It’s only a matter of time until it finds us here. When it does, the cave-guards who sit vigil on the watchpiles will alert the rest of the Tribe to hide. Then the cave-guards will rush at Sharptooth. Hopefully the cave entrance will be too narrow for it to have room to move, and it will be forced to retreat. When it does, we’ll keep pushing, and knock it over the cliff into the waterfall.”

“And if Sharptooth is too big for us to push back?” one of the cave-guards, a gray tom named Crag, asked skeptically.

“Then go for its eyes,” Tawnypelt said, drawing the attention of the Tribe cats. “If we can’t defeat Sharptooth, we can stop it from hunting any more cats by blinding it.”

Feathertail stared at the cave entrance. It was at least a foxlength high, and wider even than that. How big could Sharptooth be if that hole was too small?

“What if it can fit inside easily?” she asked. “We’re basing the plan on Sharptooth having to push through the entrance, but what if that’s not a problem for it?”

“The same plan applies,” Talon said dismissively, giving Tawnypelt a nod of approval. “Push it back and knock it over the cliff, or blind it. Either is good, and with so many cats helping, I can’t see how we can fail.”

Feathertail curled her tail around her paws. A show of brute strength might work on something like a fox or a badger, but these cats behaved like Sharptooth was much more powerful than that. It was too easy, too simple, to expect to defeat Sharptooth with force alone.

_StarClan, please let this work, or show me how we can win!_

The meeting broke apart with only Talon and Tawnypelt lingering to discuss the finer points like a Clan leader and her deputy.

Feathertail was already looking for Crowpaw when Stormfur stepped into pace beside her. “We need to talk, Feathertail.”

“Normally I’d love to, Stormfur, but—”

“No, Feathertail.” He moved in front of her, blocking her path. “This thing you’ve got with Crowpaw has to stop. Just because we aren’t in Clan territory anymore doesn’t mean we aren’t Clan cats.”

Feathertail lifted her chin. “Do you think being in Clan territory would stop us?” She shook her head. “Look around, Stormfur! Look where we are. Things are changing. Cats from all four Clans are working together to save a group of cats that don’t belong to any Clan.” She twitched her ear. “And don’t think I haven’t noticed how you look at Brook when you think no cat is watching.”

The fur on Stormfur’s back rose. “That’s different!”

“How?” Feathertail demanded.

“I’m _only_ looking. I know Brook and I could never be. She’s a Tribe cat, and I’m a RiverClan warrior,” Stormfur said. “I thought that’s what you wanted to be, too, but clearly your head is so up in the clouds that you don’t know where your paws are anymore!”

“What I want to be is _happy_!” Feathertail yowled.

“And RiverClan doesn’t make you happy?” Stormfur shot back, “Being a warrior doesn’t make you happy?” He paused, “Being with me doesn’t make you happy?”

In that brief pause, Feathertail had already started her response, and it was too late to stop it once the last question left his mouth. “No!”

The two of them stared at each other, and Feathertail realized what she said.

“Stormfur, of course—” She lashed her tail. “How could you even ask that? You’re my littermate! Of course I love being with you. But…” She looked over her shoulder at Tawnypelt and Brambleclaw. “Sometimes littermates don’t have the same destinies. Sometimes they don’t follow the same path.”

Stormfur hung his head. “I abandoned RiverClan in a time of need to follow your path.”

“Stomfur—”

Before Feathertail could try to make amends, a horrible shriek drew all of their attention. A black she-cat that Feathertail could only just recognize as Night of No Stars streaked into the cave, yowling as loud as she could, “Sharptooth! Sharptooth is here!”

“Cave-guards, in position!” Talon shouted.

Feathertail looked to the cave entrance at the massive shape that forced itself into the dark. It was the biggest animal she had ever seen, bigger than a dog or a badger, bigger than a dog and a badger _combined_. Its paws were huge, each with a set of claws as long and sharp as eagle talons, and she remembered the way BloodClan reinforced their claws with dog teeth, the way one blow from BloodClan’s leader was enough to kill the evil Tigerstar _nine times_.

She froze, and only the image of Stormfur racing toward the deadly beast could shake her into action.

“For the Tribe!” Talon cried, rearing up on his hind legs to slash at Sharptooth’s face. The giant cat barely noticed, growling in annoyance and batting him away easily. The other cave-guards took his place, rushing at Sharptooth, but their claws and teeth barely left trails in its fur.

Crag bravely leapt from his place on the watchpile, aiming his outstretched claws for Sharptooth’s neck. He landed on its shoulder, digging in every set of claws and teeth he had, but with one shake he was thrown clear. He landed hard on the stone, winded and unable to get up.

Sharptooth’s roar echoed through the cave, shaking Feathertail to her core. She tried to remember the battle techniques Mistyfoot taught her, but what use were any of them against something like this?

Sharptooth swung its head around to snatch up the gray tom, but was met with a flurry of blows from Brambleclaw, who dodged out of the way of Sharptooth’s snatching fangs  just in time to avoid losing his tail.

“Brambleclaw! Are you okay?” Squirrelpaw yelped from further back in the cave, where she and the other prey-hunters were gathered, quivering, as the battle unfolded.

“Don’t worry!” Tawnypelt took her brother’s place immediately, slashing Sharptooth’s muzzle and darting away again. “We’re _warriors_!”

Feathertail felt a rush of pride. They _were_ warriors, and they faced bigger threats than this in the past. Working together, rushing in and darting back, they could win. They had to win. Sharptooth couldn’t hurt any more of these cats!

But the cave-guards fought like Sharptooth was an eagle, leaping onto it and digging in their claws as best they could. That would work on an eagle, their claws shredding wings and making it impossible for the eagle to fly away. But Sharptooth wasn’t an eagle, and there were no feathers to tear from its pelt, and it didn’t need to run away once they latched on.

Talon got back up and leapt, but Sharptooth was ready, lunging at the tabby tom, ready to deliver a single bite that would kill Talon.

 _I’ve got to do something!_ Feathertail prepared to jump, to slam Talon out of the way, but she hesitated when she felt breath on her ear.

 “Feathertail!” Crowpaw was at her side, nudging her back, “Don’t!”

“But—!”

A horrified scream split the air and the smell of blood splashed against Feathertail’s nose. Sharptooth was retreating, not because it was defeated, but because it already had something caught in its jaws, dragging it along by one torn foreleg.

Talon stared up from the cave floor in shock and fear at the tom who did what Feathertail couldn’t and shoved him out of the way in time to escape those deadly jaws.

“ _Sheer_!” Night of No Stars wailed, “Sheer, no! Save him! Some cat _save him_!”

The brave cave-guard tried, despite his pain, to twist himself around and attack Sharptooth’s eyes. Even if he could only blind one of them, it might give the Tribe cats just enough of an advantage to survive another attack. But he couldn’t reach.

He was dragged away to the sounds of his Tribemate’s anguished caterwauls, and the Tribe cats had nothing to show for it but their loss.

Just as soon as Sharptooth had come, it was over. There was nothing the Tribe cats, or any cats, could do against it.

Daisy and Brook rushed to Night’s side, wrapping their tails around her and pressing into her swollen sides. Feathertail realized she must be carrying Sheer’s kits. Kits who would never know their father, who would have to settle for stories of his courage the way Feathertail and Stormfur settled for stories of Silverstream’s beauty and kindness.

Stoneteller emerged from the back of the cave, his expression somber but not cruel.

“Now you see,” he said, to Talon and the Clan cats, “Now you see that we cannot fight Sharptooth with claws and teeth. We can only fight with the will of the Tribe of Endless Hunting, and the cat the color of stars.” He lowered his tail, resting it on Night’s. “We will hold a ceremony for Sheer tonight, so his spirit may walk with the Tribe of Endless Hunting. Talon and Snow will guard the cave while we mourn.”

Crowpaw wound himself around Feathertail, guiding her away from the cave entrance, where Sheer’s blood stained the stone.


	21. Sunset Chapter Seven

_Chapter Seven_

_Imagine you’re in the medicine den,_ Feathertail thought to herself, her nose tucked under her paws. _Imagine Mothwing is next to you and Mudfur just gave you a poppy seed and Mistyfoot and Stormfur are coming to check on you._

_Imagine Mudfur telling Leopardstar you’ll be well by the time RiverClan’s warriors leave for the Gathering, and you get to go, and you get to see Graystripe and Tawnypelt and Brambleclaw and Squirrelpaw and Crowpaw, and it’s Crowpaw’s first Gathering as a warrior, and no cat cares that you’re together, and you’re so excited to tell him you have an apprentice of your own, and…_

Night’s crying cut through Feathertail’s daydream, and she squeezed her eyes shut. _Imagine you’re anywhere but here!_

“Feathertail?”

The silver she-cat looked up into Brambleclaw’s worried eyes. Squirrelpaw was pressed against his side, trembling.

“The Tribe needs fresh-kill,” Brambleclaw said, “Stormfur and I are going out with a few of the prey-hunters to help.”

“But what if Sharptooth is out there?” Squirrelpaw squeaked, shaking like a leaf in a storm. “What if something happens to you?”

“If anything happens to me, you’ll have to be ThunderClan’s cat in the prophecy,” Brambleclaw said, resting his muzzle on top of her head.

“Fox dung to the prophecy, Brambleclaw! What about _you_?” Squirrelpaw hissed.

Brambleclaw blinked. “I’ll just have to be careful. I know your sister is a medicine cat apprentice—I don’t want her leading you to StarClan to claw my ears off.” He returned his attention to Feathertail. “As you can see, Squirrelpaw is upset. Would you stay with her while I’m gone?”

“I’m not a kit,” Squirrelpaw huffed, but she looked like she could hardly stay upright.

Feathertail unwrapped her tail and curled it over Squirrelpaw’s shoulders. “I will,” she mewed, and as Brambleclaw padded away—giving a regretful look over his shoulder—Feathertail went on, “Did Firestar ever tell you about the time he and Graystripe led Ravenpaw to safety in the farm beyond WindClan’s territory?”

“Millie mentioned Ravenpaw,” Squirrelpaw offered. “But I don’t know who he is. A Clan cat, obviously.” She tucked her paws under her.

“Ravenpaw is a former ThunderClan cat, and one of Firestar and Graystripe’s oldest friends,” Feathertail said. “He witnessed Tigerstar murder Redtail, so Firestar and Graystripe led him away to save his life when they were only apprentices. I’ve met Ravenpaw a few times, and he’s as brave and loyal as any warrior, even if he lives outside the Clans now. He helped me and Stormfur escape from TigerClan when were apprentices, and fought in the battle against BloodClan.”

The cold of the cave seeped into Feathertail’s fur even though it was Greenleaf. Her memories of that time were distant, but she could still vaguely recall being hungry and scared and cold, fearing her own Clanmates as much as the ShadowClan cats that invaded RiverClan’s camp. She’d never been happier to see her father in her life, and she knew that from then on she could trust him to do the right thing, no matter what Clan he was in.

 _I do wish he’d stayed in RiverClan, though_. Sometimes it felt like Leopardstar was only hard on her and Stormfur because she hated Graystripe. If any other ThunderClan tom had been their father, maybe she wouldn’t be quite so cold toward them.

Squirrelpaw’s green eyes widened. “Whoa! Why haven’t I ever heard of Ravenpaw before now?”

“Firestar probably wanted to introduce you when you make the journey to Highstones,” Feathertail replied. “Graystripe mentioned to me that he and Firestar always stop and pay Ravenpaw a visit when they’re on their way to see StarClan.”

“And to think he did all that with just an apprentice’s training!” Squirrelpaw mewed in amazement. “But, why are you telling me this story, Feathertail?”

“To remind you what an apprentice can do, if you ever feel small,” Feathertail said. _And because I’m afraid the Clans might have to find a different way to live like he did, if we can’t get back to them soon._ She still didn’t think they’d found StarClan’s message for them, though she had to believe that the Tribe cats had something to do with it.

_Oh Stonefur, why won’t you come to me in another dream and explain it all?_

“Will we leave now?” Squirrelpaw asked, looking toward Tawnypelt and Crowpaw, who were deep in discussion with their heads low.

Feathertail ran a paw over her whiskers. “I’m sure if Tawnypelt wants to keep going, she’ll find a way to convince us all. I don’t think Crowpaw was ever keen on being here, even if he wanted to believe it was StarClan’s will.”

She couldn’t blame them for wanting to go. She’d never wanted to set paw in the mountains to begin with, and now she couldn’t get Night’s horrified wails or Sheer’s desperate, agonized face as he was dragged from his home out of her mind. She would never forget that for as long as she lived.

 _But it doesn’t seem right to leave them like this,_ she thought despite her self-consciousness at how the others would think she was being an indecisive RiverClan cat if she told them that. Even with her wild imagination, she couldn’t see a way to convince them that helping the Tribe was the right thing to do after she’d made such a fuss about avoiding the mountains.

Tawnypelt and Crowpaw parted, and Crowpaw trotted over, sitting on Feathertail’s other side.

“What are you two plotting?” Squirrelpaw asked, trying to sound upbeat and curious even though her anxiousness came through her shaky mew.

“Tawnypelt will tell you soon enough,” Crowpaw mumbled, pressing his head into Feathertail’s shoulder. “She’s going to talk to Talon now, and I’m exhausted, so we’ll just have to wait.”

“Stormfur and Brambleclaw aren’t here anyway,” Feathertail sighed.

Crowpaw snorted. “Stormfur let Brambleclaw come along on his patrol?”

Squirrelpaw pricked her ears defensively. “Why wouldn’t he? Brambleclaw is a great hunter.”

“Keep your fur on. I just thought Stormfur would want to be on his own with Brook, instead of having another cat along to keep an eye on them.”

 _That’s probably exactly why he wanted Brambleclaw there,_ Feathertail thought. Her brother didn’t trust himself to be alone with Brook and not let on how beautiful he thought the she-cat was, especially knowing that Brook looked at him the same way, so he asked Brambleclaw to join them. _Poor Brook, falling for that stubborn tom!_

“Poor Brook,” Squirrelpaw said out loud, and Feathertail had to hold in a hearty purr of laughter.

The distraction couldn’t last, though.

Brambleclaw, Stormfur, and Brook returned safely before sunset, each of them carrying prey. Daisy took a piece of it straight to Night, trying to get her to eat something, anything, but the pregnant she-cat had hardly looked at a piece of fresh-kill since Sheer was taken by Sharptooth.

“For your kits,” Daisy mewed, licking the black she-cat’s ears and head. “They’re _Sheer’s_ kits, too.”

Night wearily lifted her head. “Do you think any of them will look like him?”

“You’d be luckier if they didn’t.”

Feathertail thought Night might take a swipe at the cream she-cat, but she instead shook her head. “You always did know how to make me laugh. Thank you, Daisy.”

Brambleclaw trotted to Feathertail, Squirrelpaw, and Crowpaw, dropping the biggest, fattest squirrel Feathertail had ever seen at their paws. It would feed all four of them, and Brambleclaw seemed especially pleased about it.

“The Tribe cats call it a ‘marmot,’” he said, “Prey isn’t easy to catch here, but what you can catch is enough for a lot of cats.”

Feathertail glanced behind him quickly, seeing Brook trail her tail under Stormfur’s chin before joining Daisy and Night. He stared after her longingly before giving his chest and paws a few self-conscious licks, depositing his own catch—another ‘marmot’—in front of the cave-guards, passing Tawnypelt on his way. She followed him, and the Clan cats were all together again.

“Crowpaw and I were talking, and Talon has accepted our idea,” Tawnypelt said straightaway, not even bothering to say hello to her brother or Stormfur. “We should stay and help the Tribe defeat Sharptooth.”

“You think we should stay?” Feathertail gasped in surprise.

Tawnypelt squared her shoulders. “StarClan guided us to the Tribe for a reason. Even if none of us is the cat the Tribe of Endless Hunting told Stoneteller about, we should still do what we can. After all, if things carry on this way, the Tribe of Rushing Water will be wiped out, and Sharptooth will have to find other prey. We made it here; who’s to say Sharptooth couldn’t make it to the Clans? Even our camps aren’t as sheltered as this cave. How many of our Clanmates would be hunted by Sharptooth before we found a way to drive it out? And then it would go for loners and kittypets.” She looked each of the other journeying cats in the eye. “StarClan must have seen this threat, and they sent us to stop it somehow. Maybe the Tribe of Endless Hunting has other ideas, but I’m sure this is what StarClan meant for us to do.”

“It makes sense to me,” Crowpaw agreed. “I don’t like it, but what else could StarClan want from us?”

“But…” Feathertail was surprised again; Squirrelpaw was the last cat she’d thought would disagree, “What if we don’t make it back to the Clans?”

“We’ll be okay as long as we stick together,” Tawnypelt said, “Remember, the prophecy said ‘ _No Clan will survive unless all are one._ ’ We’re all here. We’re acting as one. So as long as we stick together, the prophecy says we can’t fail.” She lifted her tail. “Our first step is teaching the Tribe to fight like warriors.”

“I noticed that during the battle as well,” Brambleclaw said. “They cling to their enemies like they’re dragging eagles from the sky. You and I did much better with our fighting tactics.”

Tawnypelt’s eyes sparked, “Right! So, let’s each take on an apprentice. Talon has already said it’s okay.”

“Has Stoneteller?” Brambleclaw asked, earning an eyeroll from Squirrelpaw, and Feathertail caught her mouth, ‘Bramblemud!’ to Crowpaw.

Tawnypelt flicked her tail. “Do you _see_ Stoneteller around? Anyway, I want Crag for my apprentice, Brambleclaw should take Rock, Feathertail will have Snow, and Stormfur could teach Brook.”

“Brook isn’t a cave-guard,” Stormfur said with indignation.

“None of them are warriors,” Tawnypelt pointed out. “And we can’t win this with just the three cave-guards.”

“I want to help,” Crowpaw added, “Who’s my apprentice?”

“Isn’t that obvious? Squirrelpaw,” Tawnypelt answered.

“What?” Squirrelpaw jumped up, “But he’s an apprentice, too!”

“He’s also much more experienced than you. Don’t forget that he fought his deputy before we even left on this journey, and he would have won if Mudclaw didn’t fight dirty,” Brambleclaw pointed out. Squirrelpaw looked like she wanted to argue, but at Brambleclaw’s insistent gaze she quit twitching her tail.

“Fine,” she mewed, sending a pebble skittering across the cave floor. “But you better not act like you’re my real mentor, Crowpaw!”

“The Clans don’t need two Dustpelts,” Brambleclaw groaned. Feathertail was surprised at Brambleclaw speaking ill of his Clanmate in front of cats from other Clans, but Squirrelpaw managed a laugh at his comment. He might be serious most of the time, but he was doing his best to cheer up the young she-cat.

 _He’s a good Clanmate,_ Feathertail thought, a bit of mischief sparking in her too. “Are we sure Stormfur should train Brook?” she teased, flicking her tail under her brother’s chin, “What if he goes easy on her?”

Stormfur reared back and crashed into her, sending her rolling over the cave floor before pouncing on her. His claws were sheathed, and her thick fur absorbed most of the impact from his push. Crowpaw nearly lunged, but neither Feathertail nor Stormfur’s hackles were up. It was all good-natured teasing between littermates.

 _Something he doesn’t know about,_ Feathertail remembered.

“I’ll be as hard on her as I need to be to make sure she survives,” Stormfur said, letting Feathertail up. “That goes for all of you.”

“Oh, no! Not a moon of dawn patrols!” Squirrelpaw staggered dramatically on her paws.

Feathertail didn’t bother to suppress her purr, even though they were facing an impossible fight. Being afraid wouldn’t help the Tribe cats learn battle moves.

 

“Remember, you need to pull your paw back as soon as the strike lands,” Feathertail said, crouching beside Snow as she prepared to spar against Brook. Stormfur was whispering advice into Brook’s ear, and the she-cat looked determined to impress Stormfur. But Snow had trained to be a cave-guard, and she was more used to fighting than Brook, even if the Clan way was new to both of them. “The faster you get your paw back, the faster you can strike again.”

What was Stormfur telling Brook?

“Alright, we’re ready,” he called to Feathertail.

Feathertail brushed her tail along Snow’s back. “Do your best!”

At their mentors’ signals, the two Tribe cats rushed at each other. Brook leapt high, like she was pouncing on an eagle, while Snow reared up on her hind legs to catch her. Brook landed just short, preparing to nip Snow’s hind legs. The black-and-white she-cat came crashing down on Brook’s back, and, shaken by the unexpected move, was easily rolled off by Brook.

Brook sprang at Snow again, but this time Snow was ready. She gripped Brook’s shoulders with her forepaws and pummeled her belly from below with her hind paws until she could twist away and get free. Then Snow lashed her paw at Brook’s ear, drawing it back to swipe again with the same paw. Brook hissed and ran back, forfeiting the fight.

“That was good, Snow!” Feathertail praised. “But remember, you can get in twice as many attacks if you use both of your forepaws. While you’re pulling one back, strike with the other. That way you can confuse your opponent and they won’t know where the next swipe is coming from.”

The black-and-white Tribe cat purred. “Can I practice with Squirrelpaw next?”

“Let’s wait and see what Stormfur says.”

“The short drop was done really well, but using the same kind of technique more than once will give your opponent a chance to guess what’s coming,” Stormfur told Brook.

Brook’s tail lashed back and forth. “I’ve never had to fight another cat before.”

“I know,” Stormfur said, his muzzle close to her ear. “You’re doing fine. Let’s try it again.” He signaled to Feathertail, and she nudged Snow to get her attention back as the to-be had started staring off at Squirrelpaw. The apprentice’s ginger pelt was barley visible weaving between Crowpaw, Brambleclaw, and Rock. Squirrelpaw might be a younger apprentice, but she was showing definite promise as a warrior already.

Brook started off the next sparring session by leaping again, but this time instead of leaping _up_ , she sprang forward, crashing right into Snow and bowling her over. Snow’s hind paws scraped against Brook’s underbelly again, but she didn’t have a grip, and the tabby she-cat darted away a few tail lengths before pouncing at Snow again. This time she landed on Snow’s back before she could get up, nipping the back of her neck and pummeling the black-and-white cat with her own hind legs.

Snow shook off her surprise and rolled over, using her larger size to pin Brook and swiping at her face with quick strikes from each forepaw. Once Brook looked dazed from the flurry of blows she leaned in to nip Brook’s neck, and the tabby she-cat went limp. Snow lifted her chin proudly at beating the older cat twice.

Feathertail was about to give her to-be more praise when her ears pricked up. “Wait—”

Brook surged upward, bowling Snow off her paws and pinning the she-cat down firmly. She kept her body off to the side, away from Snow’s flailing paws.

“Well done, Brook!” Stormfur purred.

“That’s a ThunderClan move,” Feathertail gaped.

“Graystripe showed it to me,” Stormfur said, though Feathertail had to wonder if that was true. Their father loved his kits, but he wouldn’t give away ThunderClan battle techniques to other Clans. At her insistent gaze, Stormfur admitted, “Brambleclaw taught it to me after a Gathering once, back when we were still apprentices.”

 _And you didn’t show me?_ Feathertail almost asked, but she knew why he hadn’t. They always shared everything in RiverClan, relying more on each other than any other cat. Stormfur probably wanted one thing that was just his, the way Feathertail had her friendship with Mothwing. _And even back then, I didn’t like fighting very much…_

When it was finally time to return to their nests, all the cats in the Cave of Rushing Water were exhausted—the cave-guards, prey-hunters, and to-bes from practicing battle moves, the Clan cats from teaching them, and every other cat from watching them. Night tried to join in with Crowpaw and Squirrelpaw once, but Daisy gently guided her back to her nest to look on.

Feathertail yawned and curled up in her nest next to Crowpaw. Squirrelpaw curled up on top of Brambleclaw, and at first Feathertail thought she’d missed the thick ruff of fur around Brambleclaw’s neck—only to realize that it was actually Squirrelpaw’s tail, curled up under his chin. But he wasn’t annoyed enough to move away or push her off.

She watched as Stormfur begrudgingly left Brook’s side to go to his own. The pretty tabby looked on sadly before going her own way, finding a place beside Daisy and Night.

Feathertail thought Tawnypelt might take the empty spot next to Stormfur so they wouldn’t have to sleep alone, but the ShadowClan warrior seemed perfectly fine sleeping alone and had curled up somewhere between the Clan cats and the Tribe cats.

With a heavy heart at the thought of leaving Crowpaw’s side, Feathertail stood up and resettled herself next to her brother.

“You know, Brook would probably like to share your nest,” she whispered.

“I know.” Stormfur shifted, turning away from Feathertail. “But she can’t, Feathertail. You _should_ know that.”

Feathertail tried not to be too offended. She should have expected that Stormfur would be upset about her feelings for Crowpaw, but she wasn’t going to deny them for his comfort.

“What do you think Leopardstar is going to do if we return to the Clans and she sees that?” Stormfur asked. “We’ve spent so much of our lives proving ourselves to RiverClan!” He sighed. “You’re a friendly cat, Feathertail. Everyone knows that. But why did you have to be _more_ than friends with Crowpaw?” A soft growl rose in his throat. “Now all of the hard work _we’ve_ done will mean nothing, because _you_ can’t hide your feelings.”

Feathertail sat up, challenging Stormfur to do the same. “Why should I have to hide?” Almost against her will, her voice rose and her claws slid out. “Did you ever stop and think that the code might be _wrong_ about this? Silverstream did—”

“ _Don’t_ bring up Silverstream!” Stormfur snapped back. “If Silverstream had stayed loyal to RiverClan, none of this would have happened!”

“If Silverstream had stayed loyal to RiverClan, _we_ wouldn’t have happened!” Feathertail spat. “I like living, Stormfur, and I like Crowpaw. And I like having a life _with_ him. If the warrior code can’t handle that, then maybe it’s the code that needs to change.”

She left Stormfur’s side, flicking his face with her tail, and made a point of curling up around Crowpaw.

“Are you okay?” Crowpaw asked in a hushed voice.

Feathertail pretended not to hear and buried her face in his warm, windswept scent.


	22. Sunset Chapter Eight

_Chapter Eight_

Feathertail was never so relieved to see the current of stardust that flowed beside StarClan’s version of RiverClan’s camp.

She hopped along the pebbled clearing of camp, a rush of relief filling her as she poked her head into the warrior’s den and saw the cats she spent so much of her life around—Blackclaw curled up with Mistyfoot, Hawkfrost twitching in his sleep, all the warriors safe and sound. She trotted across camp to the medicine den, and there were Mothwing and Mudfur, sleeping peacefully. Maybe they were also sharing dreams with StarClan. If they were, it wasn’t the same dream as Feathertail’s.

Nervously, which was ridiculous for a dream, Feathertail slid into the leader’s den. Leopardstar was there, looking friendlier than Feathertail ever saw her. Was she glad the two HalfClan cats were gone from her Clan, maybe to never return? Did she care?

 _She must. Stormfur is a good warrior, and I’ve always caught my share of prey,_ Feathertail thought, but she couldn’t be sure.

She sat in the middle of camp, curling her tail over her paws beside Reedwhisker, who was keeping watch that night. As one of Mistyfoot’s kits, the black tom was one of the only warriors who had ever gone out of his way to show Feathertail and Stormfur any kindness, always inviting them on his hunting patrols and sitting beside them while they ate.

As an apprentice, Feathertail had a small crush on the tom, but he took Mosspelt as his mate and that was the end of that. And since she was dreaming and not _really_ there, she couldn’t tell him that Mosspelt was laying at the edge of the nursery behind him, watching with a drowsy but nonetheless loving gaze.

Feathertail lifted her own eyes to the sky, where there were more stars than ever, so close to her now.

“Stonefur?” she called.

There was no answer.

With a sigh, Feathertail padded over to the river. Maybe if she caught a fish in her dreams and ate it, she wouldn’t be hungry when she woke up.

Her reflection stared back at her with kind eyes so lovely that Feathertail almost hesitated to strike the water with her paw. When she did, she touched something much more solid than she expected, and jumped back.

A silver tabby emerged from the river, purring with laughter. She was dry the moment her paws touched land, but the stars sparkling in her fur made it look wet.

“Forgive me,” the beautiful silver she-cat mewed, “I just couldn’t resist a bit of fun.”

Feathertail leaned forward to sniff at the strange cat. She looked so much like her, but this cat was slimmer and sleeker, her fur a little shorter and denser. But if she had fluffier fur—fur like Graystripe’s—she and Feathertail would be identical.

Feathertail gasped. “You’re Silverstream.”

Silverstream purred so loudly that Feathertail thought she would wake all of RiverClan and rubbed her cheek along Feathertail’s, all the way down to her shoulder and back. “And you’re Feathertail. It’s so good to meet you at last!”

Feathertail tucked her nose into Silverstream’s neck, inhaling the scent she’d only gotten the briefest sniff of when she was a kit. How different would things have been for her if Silverstream survived her kitting and raised her in RiverClan? Would Graystripe have joined them, and stayed with them? Or would they have grown up in ThunderClan’s thick woods?

“I’ve missed you,” Feathertail choked out, even though she didn’t know how she could miss a cat she’d never known.

“I know, and I’ve missed you, too,” Silverstream said, curling her tail over Feathertail’s. “I’m sorry we couldn’t walk in the Clan’s territories together. There’s so much I would have…” she shook her head, “Well, what happened, happened, and you didn’t need me to become a great warrior. Now, we don’t have much time.”

Feathertail knew she couldn’t stay. Dreams could only last so long. But she wished Silverstream could stay the whole night and into morning.

“Did Stonefur send you?” Feathertail asked.

“Not exactly,” Silverstream answered. “I don’t know how much I can tell you. StarClan is wise and knowing, but we cannot interfere with the free will of living cats. If I tell you too much, it could influence your choice too strongly.”

She shook out her fur, spraying starlight across the riverbank. Some of it fell onto Feathertail, and she lifted her paws to investigate the specks of stardust in her own fur.

Her eyes widened.

_A cat the color of stars._

“This is what Stoneteller meant,” Feathertail gasped. “The Tribe of Endless Hunting sent him a vision—or, you came to him in a vision—it was _you_!”

Silverstream nodded, “It was.”

“But why would you deliver a message to a Tribe cat? From the Tribe of Endless Hunting? I don’t understand,” Feathertail stammered.

“Feathertail.” Silverstream rested a paw on hers. “There’s more than one way for a cat to live a noble life, and sometimes those ways are beyond the warrior code. You and I both know that.” She looked up at the stars overhead. “Think of the Tribe of Endless Hunting like another Clan that shares a border with StarClan. We don’t normally cross the border, but there are times when it is necessary. I visited Stoneteller to let him know you were coming, but I think he may have misinterpreted my message.”

“Then, are we doing the right thing?” Feathertail asked, her tail fluffing up in alarm. “Are we meant to save them from Sharptooth?”

“I can’t tell you,” Silverstream said. “What you do has to be your own choice, your own will. I can’t tell you what to do or how to do it. But, what I can say is this—I know I’ll be proud of you, no matter what you decide.”

She turned, diving back into the riverbank. She offered Feathertail one last, loving look before her head disappeared under the flow of starlight.

 

Feathertail woke before dawn. She was aware of the ache in her paws, eased slightly by the warmth of Crowpaw’s pelt pressing against hers as he slept peacefully. He was such a handsome tom, especially when he was resting and at peace.

 _What is he dreaming of?_ she wondered. His paws were still, so he probably wasn’t racing across the moor chasing rabbits. Maybe he was curled up under the stars, warming his dark pelt in the morning sun and waiting for his warrior ceremony.

Feathertail rested her muzzle between his ears. _He’ll be an amazing warrior._

She stared toward the entrance to the Cave of Rushing Water, at the waterfall it was named for.

And she knew.

She was never going to see him be a warrior.


	23. Sunset Chapter Nine

_Chapter Nine_

“Brook, would you come hunting with me?” Feathertail called.

The brown tabby she-cat looked up from her grooming, so startled by Feathertail’s request that her tongue was still sticking out. “Me?” She stood, shaking one last scrap of moss from her pelt. “Of course.”

She turned her head to beckon Stormfur, but Feathertail cut in, “Just the two of us, please.”

Brook was again taken aback, but didn’t argue. The two she-cats left the cave side-by-side, but Brook took the lead along the narrow path behind the waterfall. Feathertail placed her paws carefully; the ledge was barely more than a tail-length wide.

Rather than head for the small patch of grass where prey sometimes gathered, or the winding paths were eagles were known to soar, Brook went for a small outcropping of rocks where the two of them could have some privacy. Feathertail twitched her ears; Brook was an intuitive cat, and she knew without it being spoken aloud that Feathertail really wanted to talk. They could hunt after.

Brook sat down under one of the jutting stones, curling her tail over her paws. “I think I know what this is about.”

Feathertail nodded for her to continue.

“You think a Tribe cat shouldn’t love a Clan cat,” Brook said, “But I can’t help how I feel about Stormfur!” Her cry was half cut off by Feathertail’s laughter, and again Brook tilted her head in shock. “You’re a strange cat, Feathertail…”

“You wouldn’t be the first to say so,” Feathertail admitted. “No, Brook, I don’t think there’s anything wrong with your feelings for Stormfur. I actually came here to apologize for how difficult he’s being. You see, where we’re from, cats from different Clans aren’t allowed to be mates—”

“That’s foolish,” Brook sniffed. “You’re Clan cats. What’s the problem?”

“I wish I knew sometimes,” Feathertail mewed, happy to talk to someone who felt the same way she did for once. She could see her and Brook being good friends one day, and talking to her made her miss Mothwing even if the outspoken tabby was nothing like her self-conscious friend. “But Stormfur believes in the Clan’s ways, and he probably feels like he can’t be with you even though he wants to.”

Brook sat closer to Feathertail, not quite touching, but erasing the tense distance between them.

“I do like Stormfur,” she purred quietly. “How can I show him it’s okay to like me?”

“I’m not sure there is a way,” Feathertail said. “Stormfur is a good cat, but he’s as stubborn as any warrior.”

“But you and Crowpaw—you’re from different Clans? I heard Stormfur say something about that the other night,” Brook questioned.

“We are. And so were my and Stormfur’s parents, so cats taking mates from other Clans _does_ happen sometimes. But the Clans don’t like it, and the kits suffer,” Feathertail said, feeling the need to get everything off her chest right now. She might not get another chance to tell a living cat how she felt. “Our Clan leader hates us because our father was from a different Clan, and she hated him. Our mother died in her kitting, so we never got to know her.” Though, now, Feathertail could at least say she’d met her mother. “I know the Clans say it was wrong, but I always admired my parents for their courage. They risked everything to be together, and my father even left his Clan behind to be with us until our leader made him leave. I can’t help thinking, how could any cat see love like that and say it’s wrong?”

Brook perked up. “That’s how I feel about Stormfur. I love the Tribe, and my tribemates, and I couldn’t imagine life anywhere else… but if it was a life beside Stormfur, I’d risk anything. Just like you would for Crowpaw.”

Feathertail leaned against Brook. The tabby she-cat didn’t realize how her words struck Feathertail’s heart, but they could share the comfort of being two she-cats in love with toms their traditions told them they couldn’t— _shouldn’t_ —be with.

“I’m glad we got to talk,” Brook said, breaking the contact after a few moments. “Should we hunt now? I’d like to catch prey with my Clan friend.”

Feathertail purred, lifting her tail and her chin as a mountain breeze ruffled her fur, carrying the scents of mice and birds. “Let’s!”

 

Brook trotted into the Cave of Rushing Water with her head held high, carrying a chaffinch and a mouse. Behind her, Feathertail’s mouth watered around the whitefish she’d swiped from the stream that fed into the waterfall.

The tabby she-cat made sure to catch Stormfur’s eye before heading over to share her prey with Night and Daisy. The black she-cat was ravenous, so close to her kitting, and Daisy let the other queen—Flight—have the first bite of the mouse while her kit tumbled over her side excitedly. Feathertail watched them with longing, wondering what it would have been like to have that kind of friendship with other nursery queens in RiverClan, even if she didn’t have kits of her own. She missed her foster mother, Dawnflower, and wished she had spent more time with her once she was apprenticed.

Feathertail offered Stormfur the fish, knowing he was probably the only other cat who would appreciate the taste. Crowpaw took one sniff at it and wrinkled his nose, though his eyes were full of pride for her catch.

Stormfur hesitantly sat beside Feathertail to share the fish. He was tense, and he wasn’t looking at her, obviously still upset over their argument.

Feathertail wouldn’t draw it out any more than she had to. She didn’t want to fight with Stormfur again.

“I won’t ask you to accept my relationship with Crowpaw,” she said, “But I wish you would let yourself be happy with Brook. She’s a great cat.”

She scarfed down the rest of her bit of fish and walked away, her paws guiding her to where Brambleclaw was showing Squirrelpaw a tricky battle move. Tawnypelt was dozing nearby, still not used to being up during the middle of the day like the others.

Feathertail was less sure what to say to them, and that on its own was worth saying.

“I wish I got to know you all better on this journey,” Feathertail mewed. “You’re all brave cats, and I’m honored that I got to know you at all.”

Squirrelpaw wriggled her way out from under Brambleclaw’s paw and bounced up. “You’ve still got plenty of time, on our way back to the Clans!” she said.

“I think she means that once we start going back, we’ll need to keep our distance,” Brambleclaw explained. “We won’t be able to be this close when we’re back in our own Clans. We need to put ThunderClan first, and Feathertail will have to put RiverClan first.” He dipped his head to her. “For what it’s worth, I would be glad to have you as a Clanmate, Feathertail. RiverClan is lucky.”

Feathertail purred. “Thank you, Brambleclaw. You’ll tell Tawnypelt what I said?”

“I’m awake,” Tawnypelt mewed, her eyes still shut. “No cat could sleep through Squirrelpaw’s squealing.”

“Don’t gang up on me!” Squirrelpaw whined.

Tawnypelt’s eyes shot open and she lunged at the apprentice, bowling her over and pinning her by laying across her. “Now there’s no need for Brambleclaw and I to gang up!”

Squirrelpaw struggled under Tawnypelt’s massive form. “Hey! Let me up!”

Tawnypelt relaxed, sinking closer to the floor with Squirrelpaw between. “You’re a more comfortable nest than that moss…”

“Tawnypelt! Don’t fall asleep! _Tawnypelt_!”

Brambleclaw licked a paw and swiped it over his ears, taking his time grooming himself. “So, Feathertail, how was your hunt?” he asked, shifting slightly so his back was to his sister and his Clanmate.

“Brambleclaw!” Squirrelpaw cried, “She’s _crushing_ me under her fat fur!”

“Fur can’t be fat, Squirrelpaw,” Brambleclaw said dismissively. His eyes sparking with good humor, he nudged Feathertail’s shoulder with his muzzle in a friendly way and turned, finally, to drag Tawnypelt off the ginger she-cat.

Feathertail shook her head. It was hard to believe that she’d ever been worried about these cats getting along. All they needed was a little time away from the constant struggle of Clan life, the border disputes and posturing and unusually prey-poor Greenleaf, and they got along as easily as any group of warriors ever did.

She was glad to have been a part of it. She liked to think she played a big part in their coming together.

 _And there’s going to be more for them to do,_ she realized. Sharptooth was not the problem StarClan had called them together to solve; if it was, the solution would need all of them, not just her.

A shiver ran up her spine and she imagined the mountain fangs closing around her again. It wouldn’t be long before she faced them for real.

As if sensing her unease, Crowpaw was suddenly at her side. “What happened here?”

“Naptime,” Feathertail purred in amusement, twining her tail with his.

Crowpaw scoffed. “If you _really_ wanted a soft nest, you should have tried Feathertail.”

“I don’t like to share,” Tawnypelt responded, flicking Crowpaw’s nose with her tail, a knowing smirk on her face. Crowpaw was too flustered to answer, but there was no judgment from Tawnypelt.

 _She used to be a ThunderClan cat, but left to join ShadowClan,_ Feathertail thought, _Of course she understands what it’s like to hear your destiny calling you from a different Clan than the one you were born in._

Feathertail slumped onto the cave floor, flopping into Crowpaw’s legs.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, kneeling down beside her. “Are you feeling sick?”

“I’m just going to miss you all so much when this is over,” Feathertail sighed.

All of the cats shared a somber look. Even Stormfur, listening a short distance away, seemed less interested in finishing his fresh-kill.

“We’ll see each other at Gatherings,” Tawnypelt offered.

“It won’t be the same,” Squirrelpaw mewed, still fixing her fur from where Tawnypelt had ruffled it. “But I think we should meet up again. Maybe we can stay behind at the end of Gatherings, and have a little time just for us! We could hunt together at Fourtrees—that’s neutral ground.”

“I’d like that,” Crowpaw said. “Maybe I could show you how to chase a rabbit.”

“And I could show you how to stalk squirrels,” Squirrelpaw replied.

“I’d like to climb trees,” Tawnypelt mewed. “I’ve missed that since…” She looked to Brambleclaw sadly, “… since I joined ShadowClan.”

“I’ll race you to the top,” he purred.

“There’s no water near Fourtrees,” Squirrelpaw said, looking to Feathertail.

Stormfur, at last, came to join them. “We could bring you shells for your nests,” he answered. “RiverClan’s nests are the most beautiful in all the Clans. We’re very good at spotting shiny stones and shells.”

Squirrelpaw jumped on her paws. “I’d love to have a pretty nest!”

From their collective purring, a strange cat walking by might think that there had never been a happier group of cats. Maybe there hadn’t been.

Feathertail soaked it up, putting all her wondering and imagining into a time when cats from different Clans could meet up as friends and share their skills and the things they liked with no cat judging them for it or trying to break them apart, a place where the four Clans could come together as one, and travel over stone, toward the setting sun, into a brighter future.

They spent the rest of the day together, playing games, sharing stories, challenging each other and their Tribe apprentices. Feathertail hadn’t felt so full of light since she was in the nursery, Stormkit tucked up against her, Graystripe telling the story of the day he met their mother.

 _So many of my happy memories are in the nursery,_ Feathertail thought.

It was a shame she wouldn’t get to make more.

 

Night in the mountains was almost as cold as Leafbare. Feathertail shivered, fluffing out her fur to keep warm.

StarClan was closer than ever here. When she looked up, she thought she could see every warrior that had ever lived and then some. The Tribe of Endless Hunting must be watching too, the two groups of starry cats meeting together like they were at a Gathering. There was only a sliver of the moon—it had almost been two moons now since they’d left the Clans behind—but the light of the stars was enough, and would always be enough, to guide her path.

She crept along the narrow passage that led to the Cave of Rushing Water, her pawsteps careful and quiet. She opened her mouth, drawing in the taste of the night air for traces of her prey.

A sharp, musky odor nearly overwhelmed her senses. It was close, stalking near the cave in the darkness, ready to strike again.

She padded around the rocks where she and Brook had spoken earlier that day, picking up only their stale scent and the faintest odor of some nighttime prey that Tawnypelt would have no problem catching.

The path widened up ahead, flattening out to one of the small valleys where the Tribe cats liked to hunt.

Feathertail turned from it, climbing up the rocks along the side instead, until she was above the massive, prowling form of Sharptooth.

Her breath caught. Her heart raced. This was mouse-brained, dangerous, and the only hope the Tribe had.

She would only have one chance.

She bunched her muscles up under her, feeling the power hidden under her thick, soft fur. She might not be as good a fighter as Brambleclaw and Tawnypelt, or as good a hunter as Stormfur, Squirrelpaw, and Crowpaw, but she _was_ a warrior. She was loyal to the code, to the Clans, and she would not fail them.

Feathertail leapt, intentionally kicking a rock behind her. A shower of pebbles rolled down, hitting Sharptooth’s head and drawing its attention with a growl.

Feathertail was already running as fast as she could, not daring to look back.

Soon enough the heat of breath on her tail told her Sharptooth was giving chase, and very close behind her.

_Just a little further!_

She darted through the place where she’d spoken to Brook, and Sharptooth slowed, having a harder time navigating through the narrow passage of stones without being stuck. Her heart in her throat, Feathertail turned, lashing out with her claws, and felt a spray of blood as her paw struck Sharptooth’s muzzle.

Then she was off again, hurtling over the path, leaping to avoid gaps and stones that might trip her. She was forced to slow down when the path narrowed, leaving her panting on the trail to the Cave of Rushing Water.

_Almost there!_

No doubt Sharptooth was feeling victorious now, having chased her back to what it knew to be a dead end full of prey.

Feathertail waited, still, as it came closer. Its eyes gleamed in the dark, hungry and triumphant. It took a deep breath, picking her out by scent as her silver pelt blended into the rocks.

Sharptooth was nearly upon her.

She could smell its breath, sour with the blood of Tribe cats.

Feathertail turned and lunged, bounding up the path, and Sharptooth sprang after her on the narrow ledge.

 _Too_ narrow.

Sharptooth slipped when it landed and scrambled to regain its balance on the smooth stone, worn down by generations of cats’ paws. One back leg slid over the side and its claws scraped horribly against the rock. Its forepaws found a hold, and it dug its claws in.

 _This is it,_ Feathertail thought. With one last look at the Tribe’s home, and another up at the stars, she threw herself forward, between Sharptooth’s forelegs. With every bit of strength she could muster, she hooked her paws around its foreleg and pushed, leaning on it with all her might, clawing and biting until Sharptooth raised its paw to throw her off.

_Now!_

Feathertail dropped onto her back and kicked, hard, shoving Sharptooth toward the ledge.

Toward the ledge, and over.

The giant cat might have managed to grip the ledge and pull itself back up, but Feathertail was there, between its claws and the stone, and when it reached out with those claws they dug only into her fur.

Both of them fell from the cliff.

Sharptooth screamed, a vicious caterwaul sure to bring the cave-guards running. Feathertail, however, was silent in her dive. She stretched out her forepaws like she was leaping into the river after a particularly big fish, letting her tail stream out behind her. She fell through the waterfall and felt, for a moment, like she was one with the flow.

The water sparkled beside her, and without turning her head she knew they were there: Silverstream, Stonefur, Oakheart, Crookedstar, and Bluestar. All the StarClan cats who cared for her were there, ready, as she was.

 _I knew I’d be proud,_ she heard Silverstream whisper in her ears.

 _You are a true RiverClan cat,_ Oakheart purred.

 _I made the right choice,_ Stonefur murmured.

 _Any Clan would be lucky to have you,_ Bluestar said.

 _Thank you for saving my Tribe,_ a cream tom with a short tail mewed.

Then the water rushed up to meet her, and the last thing Feathertail saw before she was engulfed beneath the water was the loving glow of dozens of pairs of starry eyes looking down on her.


	24. Sunset Chapter Ten [Final]

_Chapter Ten_

Stormfur’s nose tickled and he wiped it with one paw, shoving Feathertail’s plumy tail out of his face. “Get off,” he grumbled, turning over to get comfortable in his nest. He rested his foreleg over Brook’s sleeping form, eliciting a purr from the drowsy she-cat.

“Sorry,” Feathertail gave a _mrow_ of laughter, “I just couldn’t resist.”

Stormfur knew she hadn’t gone away, so he lifted his head to look up at her. “Did you go swimming?” he asked, noticing the shine in her fur.

“You could say that,” she mewed, and tilted her head at Brook. “So…?”

“It’s just for tonight,” Stormfur yawned. “She said she had a bad dream about Sharptooth, and…” He paused. “Where were you? The cave-guards said they heard Sharptooth outside, but there was nothing there when they looked. And I didn’t see you with Crowpaw…”

Feathertail’s eyes were bright with longing and sorrow. “You know where I am, Stormfur.”

He stood up and thrust his muzzle toward her. Her fur _was_ shining, but it wasn’t water.

“No,” he breathed.

“It’s okay, Stormfur.” Feathertail rubbed her cheek along his, then down his neck and across his shoulder. “I’m where I need to be. I did what I needed to do. The Tribe is safe now, but the Clans aren’t. You have to keep going, and take my place as RiverClan’s cat in the prophecy.”

“No!” Stormfur yowled, burying his face in the thick fur around her neck. “You can’t be… don’t go, Feathertail! Don’t leave me all alone!”

“You’re never alone,” Feathertail purred, and Stormfur could feel her fading as the sun began to rise outside. “I’m always with you, and so are Silverstream, and Stonefur, and all the cats who love you.”

 

There was never a more hateful sunrise than the day after Feathertail’s death.

The cave-guards hadn’t gone out to investigate in the night, nervous about leaving the cave in the dark and cautious of what they heard. Even if Sharptooth wasn’t out there, there were still dangers—and if Sharptooth _was_ out there, they’d be fresh-kill before they got back to the cave to warn anyone.

But Sharptooth was there. And so was Feathertail.

And now neither of them were.

The waterfall washed them over the side of the cliff, into the pool below. From the ledge, the cave-guards could see Sharptooth’s body, and Talon announced that it was dead… as was the small silver she-cat floating in the pool beside it.

With the morning light shining on her wet fur, Feathertail really did look like her fur was the color of the stars.

Crowpaw let out a wail and raced down to her so fast that at first Stormfur thought he might leap off the cliff to be with her. He charged into the water, his long legs churning against it, and dragged her out of the pool. His paws ran over her side and flank, but she was still. Dead.

_My sister is dead._

Squirrelpaw trembled between Brambleclaw and Tawnypelt. “That… that can’t be Feathertail,” she whimpered. “That _can’t_ be Feathertail! It’s a Tribe cat, or a rogue, not… not her!”

Tawnypelt lowered her head and Brambleclaw wrapped his tail over Squirrelpaw’s back, but she hissed at them, “It’s not Feathertail! It can’t be! She has to fulfill the prophecy!” She repeated that, over and over, “She has to… StarClan chose her, so she can’t… she has to fulfill the prophecy…”

Every Tribe cat gasped when Stoneteller emerged from the Cave of Rushing Water, looking down on Crowpaw and Feathertail sadly.

To Tawnypelt, he said, “I misjudged you. The Tribe of Endless Hunting truly did guide your paws, and your friend’s name will be taught to our kits for generations.” He rested his chin on her head. “I would like to hold a vigil for her, if we may.”

“I’d like that,” Tawnypelt said. A cry tore out of her throat then, as if accepting the vigil finally made Feathertail’s death real to her, and she pressed her muzzle into Stoneteller’s herb-scented fur.

Stormfur’s paws were frozen to the stone path. He didn’t even feel Brook beside him, trying to comfort him by gently nuzzling her muzzle into his shoulder. “I’m so sorry, Stormfur. She was an amazing cat,” she might have said; Stormfur couldn’t hear anything. It was like a swarm of bees had made a hive in his ears, and every time they buzzed he heard, _my sister is dead_.

All he could think about was how he’d treated Feathertail over the past moon. All the glares and arguments they had over the tom that was now screaming her name to StarClan, all because he was afraid she would leave him alone in RiverClan.

Would he have done things differently if he knew it was her last moon?

In his ears, he heard Graystripe’s voice, pulling him aside before he went back to RiverClan after the Great Battle.

“Watch out for your sister,” Graystripe told him, “She’ll be a good warrior, but she’s got a gentle heart and she’ll need her brother looking out for her when things get tough. Promise me, no matter what, that you’ll look after her?”

“Of course!” he’d said, puffing himself up with pride, “We’ll always be best friends and littermates!”

 _Feathertail,_ he thought, claws extending and pulling back, _Feathertail, why did you have to go?_

 

The Tribe’s vigil was nice, though Stormfur barely registered most of it.

Feathertail’s body was taken to one of the smaller caves, near the back of the Cave of Rushing Water, where only Stoneteller was usually permitted to go. Every cat in the Tribe carried in a stone, and they buried her underneath them one at a time. Stormfur had to fight to stay still while they covered her, and it took both Brambleclaw and Tawnypelt to keep Crowpaw from throwing himself on the pile. Squirrelpaw stayed at the back of the cave. She didn’t want to see Feathertail’s body.

“We are gathered to honor the memory of Feathertail, a warrior of the Clans,” Stoneteller said, and every cat kept their head bowed while he spoke. “The Tribe of Endless Hunting brought her and her brave friends to us, and when all seemed hopeless, she dared to trade her life for the Tribe’s salvation.” He placed a paw on the top stone, his eyes and voice full of grief even though he hardly knew Feathertail. “Let us remember her always.”

He addressed the Clan cats, looking Stormfur in the eye with such intensity that the gray tom almost wanted to look away.

“I would like to give her a Tribe name,” Stoneteller said, “So we will always remember what she did, and so she will be welcome in the Tribe of Endless Hunting.”

Stormfur couldn’t imagine she would have denied the request. He nodded, a stiff movement.

Stoneteller looked up, as if he could see the stars through the stone ceiling of the cave. “Tribe of Endless Hunting!” he called, “Accept the courageous spirit of this cat! Hear her name, and receive her as a victorious cave-guard!” Every cat looked up, and Stormfur felt his chin lifting too.

“Star Falling From Sky!”

Even when he was waiting for his warrior name, Stormfur never realized how much a name could matter. Now he understood, with just that name, what Feathertail was to these cats.

To them, it really was as if a warrior of StarClan had come down from the sky to save them.

 _And she was,_ he thought, and yowled, “Star Falling From Sky!”

After him, Squirrelpaw, Brambleclaw, and Tawnypelt cried, “Star Falling From Sky!”

Only Crowpaw was silent.

 

The next few days passed by in a blur. With Sharptooth dead, there was no reason for the Clan cats to remain in the mountains, and without Feathertail, they had no desire to. Though the vigil brought him some sense of peace, Stormfur’s heart was still heavy with grief for his sister. He wanted her beside him, even if he had to share her with another Clan.

Talon and Brook led them out of the mountains, continuing along the path of the setting sun. Stormfur didn’t know if Feathertail visited the others in their dreams to tell them to keep going, or if they only kept moving out of some vague sense that their quest wasn’t over. Either way, in a few days time, they were nearly to the other side of the mountains, and the sun was setting again.

Squirrelpaw, who had been almost silent the entire time, gasped loudly. “Look!”

Stormfur lifted his head. The valley was visible now, just another day’s journey away. From their place in the mountains, they could see everything.

A moor bigger than any Stormfur had ever seen stretched out on the other side of a thick, lush forest of trees even taller than the Owl Tree in ThunderClan. One part of the forest was leafy with wide-reaching branches, while the other was made of pines that grew like claws striking the sky. Between the forest and the moor on the other side were streams and marshes that flowed into a pool bigger than any Stormfur thought could exist.

“It’s beautiful,” Tawnypelt breathed.

“And look,” Brambleclaw lifted his muzzle, nodding toward the pool. “Look, there!”

Though the sky above was still the fiery shades of sunset, the water was shining with hundreds of stars.

“We’re here!” Squirrelpaw exclaimed. “This is where StarClan wanted us to go!”

“But why?” Crowpaw mewed suspiciously, his tone bitter.

“We’ll find out,” Tawnypelt said. To Talon, she added, “I know it’s getting late, but can we get closer?”

But Talon wasn’t there. Stormfur turned, looking for Brook, but the tabby she-cat had disappeared from his side.

_StarClan, no! Not her too!_

“There is no need to go closer.” Stormfur’s ears pricked up. He knew that voice—the calm, soothing voice of his mentor. Stonefur was standing among them, and so were three other cats he didn’t recognize as quickly. One, he knew, was Deadfoot, but the others must have joined StarClan before he was apprenticed.

“You’ve come so far, and we’re proud of you,” a ginger-tailed tom said, “The journey wasn’t easy, but you made it.”

“But why?” Crowpaw repeated, thrusting his muzzle in front of the dark tom that bore an uncanny resemblance to him.

“You will need to lead the Clans back to this place,” Deadfoot explained. “You heard from the kittypet Millie that strange monsters are moving toward Clan territories. We fear that the territories will not survive the attack—but the Clans will, if they can move on.”

“Down there are all the things the Clans need,” the cat who Stormfur assumed was a former ShadowClan deputy continued. “There is plenty of prey and territories even larger than the forest. So long as the Clans keep the warrior code in their hearts, they will reach this place, and thrive as never before. But you must be the ones to guide them.”

The cats fell silent, until Tawnypelt whispered, “ _Leave_ the forest?”

“You must!” the ShadowClan tom insisted, “Soon there will be no forest left! If you don’t leave, the Clans won’t survive!”

“We know this is a great task, especially after the journey you’ve just been on,” the ginger tom said soothingly, as if to make up for the other’s outburst. “But we believe in you.”

 _StarClan_ _believes in_ us _!_

Stormfur felt new energy in his paws. Though he had never had any special connection to StarClan, he often reached out for them on those long morning walks when he was patrolling RiverClan alone. So many times, he would have given up a moon of fresh-kill for a sign they were listening, the merest hint that his mother heard his prayers. And now they were here, and the hopeless fog that enveloped him since Feathertail’s death began to ease. She was out there after all.

“I wish Feathertail could see this,” Squirrelpaw mewed quietly.

“Who says I can’t?” With a purr, Feathertail bounded between them, brushing her fur against all of them in turn. She stopped in front of Crowpaw, both of them in clear pain. She put her paw on his and looked into his eyes, the pain replaced by love. “I am with you, always. We started this journey together, and we’ll end it together. You may not be able to see me, or talk to me, but I am here. _Always_.”

Crowpaw purred, nuzzling her, “Of course, Star Falling From Sky.”

She looked to Stormfur, but before she could open her mouth to speak he shook his head.

“Whatever you want to tell me, I already know,” Stormfur said. “I should never have doubted you, Feathertail. And I promise, from now on, I’ll listen to what you’ve said.”

A purr erupted from her throat and she touched her muzzle to his cheek.

In a blink, the starry warriors were gone, and all of them were positioned exactly as they had been when Brambleclaw called out. Not a heartbeat had passed, but Talon and Brook looked concerned.

“Stormfur?” Brook mewed.

“It’s alright, Brook,” Stormfur said, barely managing to get the words out before Crowpaw screamed like a fox with its tail in a trap. Seeing Feathertail might have soothed him, but now that she was gone again—and for much longer this time, Stormfur thought—the wounds reopened and left him bleeding.

Stormfur expected to see blood on his own coat, leaking out from where his heart was shredded. But he meant what he said, and he touched his muzzle to Brook’s. If he had to leave her, he would at least make sure she knew what she meant to him.

“Let’s find a place to make camp,” Tawnypelt said, “The Clans are in danger, and tomorrow we start the journey back to them.”

“How are we going to convince them to leave the forest?” Squirrelpaw squeaked, curling her bushy tail around herself. “Even with StarClan telling us to go on this journey, the forest is our home!” She tucked her nose under her paws. “I wish we were there right now. I wish Leafpaw was here!”

“How are we going to get four whole Clans across the mountains?” Crowpaw growled. “We couldn’t even get all of _us_ through!”

Stormfur lowered his head. If Feathertail were there, she’d get them to see the brighter side of things, make it into a fun adventure instead of a daunting challenge. He was certain she was still there, watching over them, but she couldn’t speak up now.

He was just as worried about what Squirrelpaw and Crowpaw said, too. How was he going to convince Leopardstar to follow the other Clans away from the territory countless RiverClan cats had shed their blood to defend? And what would they do about the elders, or the queens and kits, traveling out in the open for days on end?

With a determined mew, Brook put herself in the middle of them to stop their frantic yowling. “You won’t have trouble convincing the Clans they must leave. And you won’t have trouble getting them across the mountains, either.”

“How’s that?” Crowpaw hissed, his tail twitching.

Brook looked to Talon, who suddenly seemed distant from the rest of the group. He nodded, and she gave him an appreciative wave of her tail before raising her chin to speak.

“Because I’m coming with you.”


	25. Midnight Allegiances

** Allegiances **

 

**WindClan**

_Leader_ : Tallstar, aging black and white tom with a long tail

 _Deputy_ : Onewhisker, brown tabby tom; Apprentice: Harepaw

 _Medicine Cat_ : Barkface, aging brown tom with a short tail; Apprentice: Kestrelpaw

_Warriors:_

Mudclaw, mottled dark brown tom

Webfoot, dark gray tabby tom

Tornear, pale tabby tom, missing one ear

Ashfoot, gray she-cat

Robinwing, light brown she-cat with blue eyes

Oatwhisker, cream tabby tom

Rushtail, light brown tom

Whitetail, small white she-cat

Owlwhisker, light brown tabby tom

Weaselfur, ginger tom with white paws

Gorsetail, pale gray and white she-cat

Beechfur, light brown tom

Nightcloud, black she-cat; Apprentice: Rabbitpaw

_Apprentices:_

Kestrelpaw, mottled brown and white tom

Harepaw, brown and white tom

Rabbitpaw, white she-kit with brown tabby patches

 _Queens_ :

Morningflower, tortoiseshell she-cat, mother of Tornear’s kits, Emberkit (pale tabby tom with dark paws) and Firekit (tortoiseshell she-cat with distinct ginger markings)

 

**ThunderClan**

_Leader_ : Firestar, ginger tom with green eyes

 _Deputy_ : Graystripe, long-furred gray tom

 _Medicine Cat_ : Cinderpelt, dark gray she-cat with twisted leg; Apprentice: Leafpaw

 _Warriors_ :

Mousefur, small brown she-cat; Apprentice: Shrewpaw

Dustpelt, dark brown tabby tom

Sandstorm, pale ginger she-cat

Longtail, pale tabby tom

Cloudtail, long-furred white tom; Apprentice: Spiderpaw

Brackenfur, golden brown tabby tom; Apprentice: Whitepaw

Thornclaw, golden brown tabby tom; Apprentice: Birchpaw

Brightheart, white she-cat with ginger patches, missing an eye and ear

Ashfur, mottled gray tom with blue eyes

Rainwhisker, dark gray tom with blue eyes

Sootfur, light gray tom

Sorreltail, calico she-cat

 _Apprentices_ :

Spiderpaw, long-limbed black tom

Shrewpaw, dark brown tom

Leafpaw, light brown tabby she-cat

Birchpaw, light brown tabby tom

Whitepaw, white she-cat with one yellow eye and one blue eye, deaf in one ear

 _Queens_ :

Ferncloud, mottled gray she-cat with green eyes; expecting Dustpelt’s kits

 _Elders_ :

Goldenflower, pale ginger she-cat

Frostfur, white she-cat

 

**ShadowClan**

_Leader_ : Blackstar, white cat with six-toed black paws

 _Deputy_ : Russetfur, dark ginger she-cat

 _Medicine Cat_ : Littlecloud, small tabby tom

 _Warriors_ :

Oakfur, small brown tom

Cedarheart, dark gray tom; Apprentice: Applepaw

Rowanclaw, ginger tom

Tallpoppy, long-legged light brown she-cat

Nightwing, black she-cat; Apprentice: Toadpaw

Smokefoot, dark gray tom

Ivytail, tortoiseshell she-cat

Crowfrost, black-and-white tom

 _Apprentices_ :

Applepaw, mottled brown she-cat

Toadpaw, dark brown tom

 _Queens_ :

Snowbird, white she-cat, mother of Starlingkit (ginger tom-kit) and Talonkit (pale ginger and white tom-kit)

 _Elders_ :

Runningnose, small gray and white tom

 

 

**RiverClan**

 

 _Leader_ : Leopardstar, spotted golden tabby she-cat

 _Deputy_ : Mistyfoot, gray she-cat

 _Medicine Cat_ : Mudfur, aging long-furred brown tom; Apprentice: Mothwing

 _Warriors_ :

Shadepelt, dark gray she-cat

Blackclaw, smoky black tom; Apprentice: Volepaw

Rippletail, dark gray tabby tom

Swallowtail, long-furred dark brown tabby she-cat; Apprentice: Stonepaw

Reedwhisker, black tom; Apprentice: Splashpaw

Beechwhisker, light brown tom

Hawkfrost, dark brown tabby tom with blue eyes

 _Apprentices_ :

Mothwing, golden tabby she-cat

Volepaw, small brown tabby tom

Stonepaw, gray tom

Splashpaw, gray tabby she-cat

 _Queens_ :

Mosspelt, pale tortoiseshell she-cat with blue eyes, mother of Reedwhisker’s kits, Willowkit (pale gray tabby she-kit), Minnowkit (dark gray and white she-kit), and Pebblekit (mottled gray tom)

Dawnflower, pale gray she-cat

 _Elders_ :

Loudbelly, long-furred dark brown tom

 

 

**Cats Outside the Clans**

Barley, black and white tom

Ravenpaw, black tom

Millie, silver tabby she-cat

Tawnypelt, pale tortoiseshell she-cat

Crowpaw, dark gray tom with blue eyes

Feathertail, silver tabby she-cat

Stormfur, dark gray tom

Brambleclaw, dark brown tabby tom with amber eyes

Squirrelpaw, ginger she-cat with a fluffy tail

Brook Where Small Fish Swim (Brook), brown tabby she-cat with gray eyes

 


	26. Midnight Prologue

_Prologue_

Ravenpaw flipped the mouse through the air with the flick of a paw and pounced as soon as it landed, making a neat kill.

“Show off,” Barley purred.

Ravenpaw lifted his head proudly, turning the mouse over. Like all the mice on the farm, it was plump from eating grains. In Ravenpaw’s opinion, the farm grain made the mice tastier than their distant kin in the forest, too.

The thought of the forest made him pause before carrying his catch back to Barley. He left his catch where it was, climbing up to the loft of the barn and sitting by the opening. He could look out over the moor from there, all the way to ThunderClan territory.

The moor was torn apart, deep tracks left in the dirt by monsters. WindClan’s camp was gone, the hollow filled in like a cat burying their dirt. The monsters stood guard over their work, still now without the Twolegs around, but nonetheless horrifying with their giant teeth waiting to tear apart the ground beneath them.

Gradually, those monsters were working their way toward the forest—toward ThunderClan. And as they took their time, Ravenpaw knew the Clans were quickly running out. Prey was fleeing the forest in droves; there were days where Ravenpaw could hardly take a step without a mouse running over his paws.

And while his hunting had become easier than usual, the Clans were starving.

Ravenpaw leapt down to the floor of the barn and picked up the mouse. “I’m going to take this to ThunderClan.”

Barley sat up. “So far? It’s nearly dark out.”

“They need this fresh-kill more than I do,” Ravenpaw pointed out, prodding Barley’s side with a paw, “And they definitely need it more than _you_ do.”

“Once a Clan cat, always a Clan cat,” Barley grumbled under his breath and turned in a circle settling down again. Ravenpaw noticed there was still room for him beside the black-and-white tom in their nest.

“I’ll be back by morning,” Ravenpaw promised, running his tail along Barley’s back on his way out.

He would have to be careful to avoid any WindClan patrols. The wiry warriors of the moor would no doubt be ready to fight him for his prey, even if it didn’t come from their territory.

The stench of the monsters was so strong that it overtook the scent of WindClan, and the mouse, too. Ravenpaw nearly gagged. No wonder all the prey was leaving! He couldn’t imagine how any creature could live so close to the monsters, and he wasn’t even near them.

He moved quickly over the moor, keeping his eyes and ears alert for signs of any WindClan cats—or monsters—sneaking up on him. He would be glad once he got into the cover of the trees.

A silver she-cat darted across his path. Ravenpaw’s fur stuck up on end, his tail stick-straight behind him. His mouse dropped out of his mouth as he yowled, “Watch out!”

The silver she-cat was just as startled as him, arching her back up as she came to a halt.

“Are you a Clan cat?” she asked.

Ravenpaw took a sniff. She must be a rogue, but her fur was clean and soft-looking. A kittypet?

“I used to be,” he answered. “Do I know you?”

The she-cat relaxed a little, though being outside and away from her garden obviously kept her on edge. “My name is Millie. I met a group of Clan cats travelling toward the setting sun, and… well, I heard what was happening here. I wanted to see how bad it was myself, in case those cats pass by my garden on their way back.” She lifted her chin toward Highstones. “My garden is on the other side of those rocks.”

“You’ve come a long way, then,” Ravenpaw said. He looked at the mouse and sighed. A single mouse wouldn’t have made much difference to a starving Clan, anyway. “It’s not safe for any cat out here right now, least of all a cat trespassing on Clan territory. I’ll show you back to my barn, and you can go home in the morning, now that you’ve seen it.”

Millie ducked her head in appreciation and walked behind him as they took the long way back to the barn, moving in wide paths around the monsters and keeping clear of any bushes or boulders that had recent WindClan scent around it. There weren’t many that did, which was even more worrying than being caught by a patrol.

The silver she-cat looked around, taking in everything.

“It must have been so beautiful before,” she mewed sadly as the barn came into view. Ravenpaw could see that Barley had moved up to the loft to watch for him from the opening.

“It was,” Ravenpaw nodded.

“Will the Clan cats be okay?” Millie asked.

Ravenpaw decided not to answer.


	27. Midnight Chapter One

_Chapter One_

The half-moon hanging in the sky looked dull, like some cat had scraped a pawful of dirt over it. A cool breeze rattled dry leaves from the trees, scattering them across Leafpaw and Cinderpelt’s path.

The gray she-cat fluffed her fur out against the wind, grimacing. They were at the edge of ThunderClan’s territory now, but usually the thick woods kept the constant wind that came off the moor from reaching them before they left it.

There was something sinister in that wind, though Leafpaw didn’t say so. Cinderpelt was on edge lately, and she didn’t want to test her usually understanding mentor’s dwindling patience.

“Leafbare is going to be early this year,” Cinderpelt grumbled, setting out across the moor regardless of the chill. “Just what we need!”

Leafpaw couldn’t help but agree. Even with the traveling herbs they’d taken to help them on their way, her belly rumbled and her mouth watered at the _thought_ of fresh-kill. There had been barely enough prey through Greenleaf to keep the Clan fed, and once leafbare came it would only get worse. They might not find _any_ prey at all.

 _Maybe StarClan will show us a place to find prey,_ Leafpaw thought. _Or tell us where Squirrelpaw and Brambleclaw went_.

It hadn’t taken very long to figure out why the two cats disappeared, especially when friendlier patrols from other Clans told them that Stormfur, Feathertail, and Crowpaw were gone, too. And every cat noticed Tawnypelt missing from the next _two_ Gatherings.

Leafpaw tried to trust that StarClan was guiding the cats, and her sister was safe with them. But worry gnawed at her as badly as hunger, filling her dreams with horrible visions of StarClan being angry at Squirrelpaw for going on their quest when she wasn’t chosen and turning her into a squirrel or making her paws transform into stone. Cinderpelt assured her that StarClan would never do that to a cat, even if they could, but Leafpaw couldn’t help thinking that something awful would happen to keep her sister from ever returning.

Looking up at the moon again, she lifted her paw a little higher on the next step and tried to swipe the dirt from its surface.

 _Please, StarClan, please show me Squirrelpaw tonight_.

Due to her old leg injury, Cinderpelt had to walk slower than other cats across the moor, where the wind picked up and ripped at their pelts like claws. Leafpaw shivered. How did WindClan stand it?

“Cinderpelt!” a tom called not far from them, and Leafpaw saw Mudfur and Mothwing hurrying toward them. Mudfur was moving as slowly as Cinderpelt, his old age catching up to him faster and faster. Though RiverClan looked the best fed at the Gatherings, no doubt their Greenleaf hadn’t been as bountiful in prey as usual either.

Leafpaw took a moment to admire Mothwing’s thick golden fur and the long mane that framed her dark face. She must have hardly felt the cold at all!

“Hello, Leafpaw,” Mothwing said, falling into step beside her as their mentors discussed the latest Clan news. From what she could hear, Mosspelt had just given birth to three kits, and Mudfur was worried about her having enough milk in the cold moons ahead.

Thankfully, no kits had been born in ThunderClan since Whitepaw. Ferncloud stayed in the nursery, and she and Dustpelt planned to have another litter, but with the way things were in the forest, neither of them wanted to risk losing the kits.

“How’s your training going?” Mothwing asked.

“It’s fine,” Leafpaw said. She wanted to say it was going great, as great as it had been when she started—but without Squirrelpaw around, it was hard to concentrate on her work. She’d mixed up coltsfoot and watermint twice in the last half-moon, and once she came back to camp carrying a useless wildflower instead of the yarrow she was meant to find.

It was hard to explain. She and Squirrelpaw weren’t training _together_ , but having Squirrelpaw in camp always pushed Leafpaw to try harder to be the best medicine cat she could be. Maybe Squirrelpaw always getting up to trouble and being sent to the medicine den with burrs in her fur or thorns in her paws had something to do with it.

She realized that an uncomfortable silence had settled between her and Mothwing, and she added, “I got to organize the herb stores by myself today. That was nice.”

“Mudfur has a hard time reaching some of the herbs. Old bones,” Mothwing said, “Most of my practice has been on him.”

She looked expectantly at Leafpaw, and the brown tabby apprentice realized she was making a joke. She laughed, but it came out sounding half-hearted. Mothwing looked away and ants prickled in Leafpaw’s pelt. Why did she have to be so awkward?

The WindClan medicine cats met them not long after they left the forest behind. Leafpaw didn’t think anything of it, but Cinderpelt definitely did.

“Still not back in your camp?” Cinderpelt asked.

Barkface dipped his head in greeting. “It’s good to see you as well, Cinderpelt.”

Kestrelpaw usually bounded over to Leafpaw and Mothwing, chattering like a sparrow all the way to Highstones, since they wouldn’t be able to talk once they entered the tunnel. Now he was sullen, his steps lacking their usual bounce.

“Hi, Leafpaw. Hi, Mothwing,” he mewed, barely keeping their pace as they continued on. The way the moonlight reflected off his dappled fur made it hard to tell, but Leafpaw was sure that if she rested a paw on him, she would feel every rib and ridge on his spine. Barkface was breathing harder as well, and she had the feeling that it was due to more than his old age.

 _Poor WindClan,_ she thought. Something was keeping them from going home to their camp, and they suffered from the prey-poor Greenleaf more than any other Clan.

This was why she could never be a warrior. If she saw a rival warrior so desperate for food that they crossed the border to hunt on ThunderClan territory, she wouldn’t be able to take it away from them, much less risk hurting them when chasing them off. Fortunately she’d never had to train as a warrior. Her mother, Sandstorm, recognized her destiny almost the moment she was born.

Leafpaw loved listening to the story when she was in the nursery. Sandstorm had struggled to give birth, and would likely never have kits again. She and Cinderpelt were terrified when Squirrelkit didn’t start breathing right away, and her fear made it even harder for Leafkit to be born.

Then a sweet aroma filled the nursery, and Cinderpelt said there was a StarClan cat there, guiding her paws to help Sandstorm through labor and make Squirrelkit breathe. Sandstorm knew it was the former ThunderClan medicine cat, Spottedleaf, and she named Leafkit after her in thanks. From that moment, Sandstorm knew Leafkit would train as a medicine cat—and she was right!

Leafpaw wondered what made Mothwing change her mind. She knew the gold she-cat had trained as a warrior first, and she and her brother had come to RiverClan as rogues. Why would a cat born outside the Clans, who trained to fight and hunt, want to learn about healing herbs and StarClan?

She was about to ask when Cinderpelt stumbled and hissed.

Immediately Mudfur and Barkface started checking her for injury, and she waved them off. “I’m fine! Nothing sprained or broken. Just a little fall.” She set her paws carefully into the dip, like a warrior had made a wound in the moor. It smelled acrid, like the Thunderpath.

“What is that?” Mudfur exclaimed, his fur standing on end as he stared at something in the distance.

The thickest, warmest fur in the world wouldn’t stop her from shaking.

Leafpaw flattened herself to the ground in fear when she saw it. It was huge! It looked like a monster, but nastier and crueler than any she’d seen before. It was still, like a cat waiting to pounce on a mouse.

Barkface sighed. “We call them ground-eaters.” He lifted his head, ears pressed forward as his voice turned grave. “You must promise me that you will reveal nothing of this to your Clans. I cannot stop any cat from going to Highstones and seeing this, but—”

“Of course we won’t!” Mothwing mewed.

“Even if I told Firestar, he would never take advantage of WindClan’s troubles,” Cinderpelt offered. “What are they doing here?”

“They eat bushes and dirt,” Kestrelpaw said. “Sometimes they move the dirt. They buried our old camp completely, and tore out all the gorse and heather around it.”

Leafpaw’s eyes were as wide as the full moon. What kind of monster did something like that? _Why_?

Mothwing nudged her encouragingly. “Maybe StarClan will have something to say about this.”

Kestrelpaw plodded across, hardly even paying attention to the ground-eaters.

“StarClan can say anything they like,” he muttered, “But what can they change?”


	28. Midnight Chapter Two

_Chapter Two_

If the long walk to and from Highstones didn’t leave Leafpaw exhausted, her dreams did. She was used to receiving vague signs and visions from StarClan when they visited the Moonstone now, but last night they had granted her wish and shown her Squirrelpaw… maybe.

Leafpaw was flung far from the Clans, the forest and TwolegPlace flying under her paws as she was carried on the wind like a feather, until she was floating above a wide pool of water that glittered with stars. She heard Squirrelpaw’s distant voice, though she couldn’t see her sister. She also couldn’t hear exactly what she said.

But why did Squirrelpaw sound so sad?

Leafpaw thought about it all the way back from Highstones while the other medicine cats discussed their troubling signs of hunger and death. None of them mentioned the vast pool. Was it possible that she received a special vision, just for her? It seemed likely—no other cat had any reason to dream about Squirrelpaw.

Doubt nagged at her like fleas. What if that meant her dream was only a dream, and she only heard Squirrelpaw’s voice because she wanted to? If that was the case, why would she dream of her being so upset?

The sun was already high in the sky when she was prodded awake by Cinderpelt.

“I’m sorry,” Leafpaw mewed, though she was cut short by her own yawn, but Cinderpelt gave her a sympathetic look.

“Last night was hard for all of us,” Cinderpelt said, and it occurred to Leafpaw that her mentor didn’t look as well-groomed as she normally did. She might have overslept, too. They were nearly out of traveling herbs and had to take fewer than they normally would have the night before.

“I can go gather herbs,” Leafpaw offered. It was always better, in her opinion, to volunteer for duties before they could be assigned. “It looks like we’re short on chamomile and burnet.”

“I don’t know if I want you going out alone,” Cinderpelt murmured. After such a long trek, she wouldn’t be up to patrolling the territory thanks to her twisted back leg.

“I’ll join a patrol,” Leafpaw suggested. “ _Please_ , Cinderpelt? I want to be useful.” _And I want to think about what I dreamed at the Moonstone_.

Cinderpelt twitched her paw. “Alright, but don’t get in any cat’s way.”

“Thank you!” Leafpaw purred, running out into the clearing of ThunderClan’s camp without even stopping to give herself a wash first. Sunhigh was fast approaching, and that meant a hunting patrol would be out soon.

“Hi, Leafpaw!” came Whitepaw’s loud mew. She was deaf on her blue-eyed side, and didn’t always know when she was being loud in camp. In the forest, though, Whitepaw was as silent and sneaky as any hunter ought to be, and her mentor Brackenfur had worked closely with her to make sure she knew how to place her paws and move her tail to avoid making any noise.

Leafpaw lifted her tail in greeting. Whitepaw was the closest apprentice to her in age now that Squirrelpaw was gone, and seeing her brought Leafpaw happy memories of their time in the nursery. Even back then Leafpaw didn’t like playing rough, but Whitepaw was just as happy to play chasing games with Leafpaw as she was to wrestle and tumble with Squirrelpaw. She was practically another littermate to them.

Brackenfur and Sorreltail approached, their pelts brushing as they walked. Leafpaw felt the heat of a stray sunbeam warm her fur. She would never know love like they had, and sometimes the reminder made her feel self-conscious—but the love she did have was just as good. She loved her whole Clan, and every Clan cat, in a way a warrior never could.

Whitepaw bounced on her paws. “Are we going hunting now?”

“Now that I’ve found our third cat, yes,” Brackenfur said. His warm amber eyes fell on Leafpaw. “Are you coming with us?”

“I need to look for herbs,” Leafpaw nodded.

“That might be for the best. We’re hunting near Sunningrocks, and having a medicine cat apprentice around might diffuse tensions with RiverClan if we meet a patrol,” Brackenfur mewed, “I trust Cinderpelt has shown you how to be quiet in the forest? Since you’re traveling with us, you’ll need to act like you’re hunting too—even if you’re hunting for herbs.”

“Leafpaw’s going to catch so many leaves!” Whitepaw laughed.

“Yes, she’s taught me,” Leafpaw said, trying not to get distracted by her urge to have a game with Whitepaw. She was a medicine cat apprentice on a mission, and she needed to keep her paws on the ground.

Medicine cats didn’t usually hunt, but they were all taught basic skills in case they were caught out alone somewhere. Leafpaw didn’t have much practice, but she was pretty sure she could catch a mouse or two if she really, really had to.

 _Maybe I should try,_ she thought with a worried glance at the scant fresh-kill pile.

The forest was unusually quiet. The still air and absence of birdsong set Leafpaw on edge, and she focused on looking for any chamomile that might grow along the way. She was pretty sure she’d find burnet closer to the Sunningrocks.

The hunters moved carefully across the forest floor even though there was no sign of prey around. Suddenly Whitepaw dropped into a crouch, her paws sliding forward silently until she pounced and delivered the killing bite to a mouse. She lifted it proudly and Sorreltail remarked, “Good catch!,” but it looked more like a dead leaf hanging from her jaws than a piece of fresh-kill.

 _Everything helps,_ Leafpaw thought, but she couldn’t deny that she was concerned. Firestar had ordered more hunting patrols, to the point where hunting patrols and border patrols had combined. Any cat who left camp was supposed to hunt.

Whitepaw buried the mouse for later and they kept moving, but they didn’t have any further luck on their way to Sunningrocks.

“Is the river lower than usual?” Sorreltail asked in a whisper, looking down from atop one of the boulders.

“I think it is,” Brackenfur nodded, stepping forward to get a closer look. “Not unusual for Greenleaf, but…”

 _But it should still be higher than that,_ Leafpaw thought. She could see on the opposite bank where the water usually flowed, leaving a clear mark, and it was at least a full tail-length lower than that. She didn’t see how a RiverClan cat would be able to get out of the river if they tried to dive in after a fish.

Whitepaw was less concerned, already sniffing around for any signs of mice or voles hiding in the shade of the rocks.

“Be careful and look out for snakes,” Brackenfur cautioned her.

Whitepaw lifted her tail in acknowledgement. Leafpaw could just imagine that the white apprentice was thinking if she saw a snake, she’d catch it and bring it back to the Clan to boast.

 _What’s good for treating snake bites? Burdock root?_ Leafpaw tried to remember, just in case. She was pretty sure Cinderpelt hadn’t taught her anything about snakebites yet, but she knew burdock root was good for rat bites. It made sense that they’d help with any kind of bite.

She padded over to a tree growing beside the river and found the burnet she was looking for. She remembered it being there before, when Cinderpelt took her on her tour of the territory for her first day of training. Even though Leafpaw wasn’t a warrior apprentice, she was glad to get to explore ThunderClan territory for the first time with Squirrelpaw.

A splash drew her attention and she whipped her head toward the river. Just as she’d thought, a RiverClan cat had jumped into the water, but now they couldn’t get out!

“Brackenfur! Sorreltail!” she called, rushing to the edge of the bank. “Help!”

But what could they do? Neither of them could swim!

 _I can’t let that poor RiverClan cat drown!_ Leafpaw despaired, searching for any way to save them as the brown tabby struggled against the current, trying to climb up the bank only for the dirt to fall apart under their claws.

Brackenfur’s hackles rose when he saw what was happening. “We need a RiverClan cat,” he mewed tensely. “Sorreltail—”

“I’m on it!” The calico she-cat raced up a tree, her steps carefully placed along a branch that hung over the river. At the last possible moment, she leapt, her delicate paws carrying her far across already. She landed on the other side of the river, only one back leg slipping over the edge before she settled herself and disappeared further into RiverClan territory.

“Wow,” Whitepaw breathed, “I want to learn to do that!”

If the situation weren’t so dire, Leafpaw would have taken the time to be impressed, too.

_But now she’s on RiverClan territory! What if some cat thinks she pushed that warrior in?_

“Help!” she shouted, hoping her wails would make the situation obvious to any RiverClan cats. “Help! Help!”

The tabby was starting to drift further, unable to keep fighting. If they didn’t get out soon, they’d drown!

Sorreltail reappeared, a golden tabby with a dark face and a big, brown tabby tom with icy eyes close on her heels.

_Mothwing!_

The gold-furred medicine cat apprentice took one look at the situation and turned to the tom, but he was snarling at Sorreltail.

“Prey-stealer!” he hissed.

Sorreltail growled back, “I’m only here to help save _your_ Clanmate, fish-fur!”

“Hawkfrost, we need to get Volepaw out,” Mothwing mewed, looking just as startled at the warrior’s aggression.

“We need to protect RiverClan’s borders,” Hawkfrost spat, raising a claw to swipe at Sorreltail. Before he could, she swatted his muzzle with sheathed claws.

“Help your Clanmate, you mouse-brained foxheart!”

 _I never knew Sorreltail could talk like that,_ Leafpaw thought, stunned. Usually the she-cat was mild-mannered and sweet, but that was how warriors were—they could be the kindest, most caring cats in the world to their Clanmates, but they treated other cats like they were disease-riddled rats.

 _Oh, that’s a good insult,_ Leafpaw realized. Maybe she’d share that one with the other apprentices later. Squirrelpaw would appreciate it, if she were there… though she’d probably get them both in trouble by calling Dustpelt that when he told her to check the elders for ticks and had to tell Firestar where she learned it.

“Hawkfrost, _please_ , he’s drowning!” Mothwing yowled.

With a final hiss, Hawkfrost turned from Sorreltail and reached a massive paw down, swiping at Volepaw’s scruff. “Grab on, then!”

Volepaw flailed, trying to get his churning paws higher than the water’s surface. When it became clear he couldn’t get out by taking Hawkfrost’s paw, the tabby tom jumped into the water.

“Wait!” Leafpaw cried. Now they’d _both_ drown!

But Hawkfrost wasn’t concerned. He grabbed onto a root with his teeth, dangling half-in and half-out of the river, letting Volepaw climb up his back until Mothwing could bite his scruff and pull him onto shore. Once he was up, Hawkfrost clawed his way back up, giving his pelt a shake and a few licks where Volepaw’s claws had dug in too far.

Volepaw coughed, spitting a mouthful of water out of his mouth.

“Sorry, Hawkfrost,” he mewed weakly, “I couldn’t catch that trout…”

Mothwing stood up straight, eyes burning into Hawkfrost’s fur. “You _told_ him to go in?”

Hawkfrost lashed his tail, a dark look cast back toward Sorreltail, who had not moved. “We’ll discuss this elsewhere, Mothwing. For now I need to escort this trespasser off our territory.”

“I can find the stepping stones myself, thanks,” Sorreltail huffed. “I just wanted to see that he got out okay. I’m going.”

Hawkfrost cut her off. “I _insist_.”

“I insist that you not lay a single claw on her if you don’t want every ThunderClan warrior in your camp by moonrise,” Brackenfur snarled across the river, “ThunderClan warriors are noble, and it’s clear that Sorreltail cares more about RiverClan than _you_ do.”

Hawkfrost showed his teeth. Did he ever stop? “Come over here and say that, squirrel chaser!”

“Enough!” Mothwing cried. “Volepaw needs to get back to camp, _now_. Sorreltail came to help us save him—I think we can trust her not to steal prey. Besides, what could she catch? I’ve never seen a ThunderClan cat willingly get their paws wet.” She shouldered her way between Hawkfrost and Sorreltail. “Come _on_ , Hawkfrost. Your apprentice needs you.”

Finally, Hawkfrost relented. “If I catch so much as a sniff of ThunderClan anywhere but the border…”

“You won’t,” Sorreltail spat, trotting along the bank toward the stepping stones, “And you’re welcome!”

“That was exciting,” Whitepaw breathed next to Leafpaw. To Brackenfur, she asked, “Are we still going to hunt?”

“No point now,” Brackenfur sighed. “Anything we could have caught will have fled after all that. Let’s collect your mouse and go back to camp once Sorreltail rejoins us.”

Leafpaw gathered up the burnet, happy to leave the border behind. Something about Hawkfrost made her fur stand on end. There was something _wrong_ with him, with any cat who would rather fight a rival warrior than save their own Clanmate’s life! It shouldn’t take a medicine cat begging to get a warrior to do the right thing and _not_ fight.

 _Poor Mothwing._ At least the thought of the golden she-cat emerging from the brush, ready to help, chased away some of the lingering chill in Leafpaw’s fur. She thought the quiet former warrior was a little strange at first, but maybe she’d been wrong. She was truly devoted to healing, not fighting.

 _She’ll be a great medicine cat,_ Leafpaw decided, and was suddenly looking forward to the next half-moon meeting.


End file.
